


Sweet Boy

by mishaminion69, sydkn3e



Series: Sweet Boy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Barebacking, Bondage, Cockwarming, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Dom Castiel, Edging, From Sex to Love, Hand Feeding, Kinbaku, Kissing, M/M, Miscommunication is the Real Villain Here, Older Castiel, Panty Kink, Praise Kink, Safeword Use, Spanking, Sub Dean, Young Dean, collaring, dom drop out of play, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of past relationships - Freeform, past trauma, sigmund freud is a fuckhead, the world's most vague love confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 195,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishaminion69/pseuds/mishaminion69, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydkn3e/pseuds/sydkn3e
Summary: Dean's sixteen when he meets John's well-to-do boss, Castiel Novak, and he's quick to develop a crush during a time where he's only begun to discover his preferences. He dates the beautiful Lisa and practically raises his younger brother Sam, because it's what John expects. But Castiel appears to see Dean in a way no one else does, and despite him knowing there's no way anything can happen between them, he relishes in the idea that Castiel cares at all for his well-being.Between mounting pressures from a teenage Sam that no longer wants a caretaker, John's nudging for Dean to follow a career path he doesn't want, and a mysterious check for the exact amount of one semester at the school Dean had been eyeing, Dean finds himself reconnecting with Castiel.And Castiel has a very interesting proposition for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note tags.  
> ALSO! Dean is 16 the first time he meets Castiel- who is around John's age- but nothing happens sexually until Dean is 18. There is NO underage sex.
> 
> We tried to portray the most real BDSM relationship we could. Obviously things get muddled toward the end of the story, but the beginning in relation to Castiel and Dean's contract, we painted their relationship as true to the BDSM community as we could based on our knowledge and research. If there's anything we're glaringly wrong about or that can be construed as offensive to the BDSM community, feel free to let us know (nicely, please!) in the comments. Thank you for reading!

“Why do we have to go to this thing, anyway?”

Dean rested his forehead against the cool window, tapping his fingers on his knee to the tune of Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” rumbling through the speakers of his father’s beloved 1967 Chevy Impala. It was only shortly after 6 p.m. but the sun was already rapidly beginning to set, only barely above the trees, soft light streaming through the branches. It was cold, more so than usual for the typical December in Kansas, the temperature holding pretty steady somewhere between the low twenties at night and high thirties during the day. Not that his dad’s cracked window helped any, ensuring an escape route for the smoke billowing from the cigarette hanging between his lips.

“‘Cause I gotta go, and I can’t leave you boys alone.”

Dean scoffed. “You leave us alone all the time. I’m  _ sixteen _ -”

“Yeah, well, maybe I also wanted to take advantage of the fact that I’m a single father raising two boys on a salary that has plenty of room for improvement,” John grunted, pulling the cigarette from his lips and tossing it. He rolled the window up and looked over at Dean, winking, lips upturned in one corner. “New boss means a chance for a good first impression. Morale’s been down at the warehouse for months and if this guy’s as good as they say…” John shrugged, “may be smart enough to realize a little pay increase would help. And playing one of the only cards I got couldn’t hurt.” 

“So we’re cards?” came Sammy’s voice from the backseat, and even without looking Dean knew he hadn’t even looked up from his Gameboy.

“Among other things,” John said with a chuckle, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. 

“I thought you liked your old boss,” Dean muttered, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

“I liked old Elkins just fine, but the numbers don’t lie, son. We lost close to a million dollars in company revenue last year alone. He was a nice enough guy, but he just wasn’t gettin’ the job done. Execs wanted someone new- younger, with fresher ideas.”

“So,” Dean grunted. “A douchebag.”

“Hey, watch it,” John warned, glaring over at the boy. “I mean it, Dean. I need you to behave tonight. Take a break from that smart mouth of yours and make your old man look good, okay?”

Dean grumbled under his breath and sunk down in his seat, watching the bare trees rush by and the sky gradually darken. The neighborhood gradually went from old, one story homes with chipping paint and sagging foundations to sleek, modern houses with multiple levels and big, fancy front doors. The roads were smooth and black, lit by electric gas lamps, that curved through hills on which these modern mansions sat. 

Dean swallowed as the car began to slow and he grew more than a little nervous. His dad hadn’t said anything about this guy being rich, but he supposed it made sense. He’s the big boss, right? Of course he’d have money. 

John swung the Impala into a winding driveway and Dean’s mouth dropped a he took in the impressive home that came into view. It was the perfect blend of old style and new comfort, combining dark wood, stone, and floor to ceiling windows to create a modern- but also somehow cozy- residence. It was probably the most expensive house Dean would ever step foot in and he was sweating with nerves, mentally telling himself to keep his hands in his pockets and  _ don’t touch anything. _

“Whoa,” Sammy breathed, leaning over into Dean’s space to get a better look. “That’s, uh...big.”

“And expensive,” John grunted as he put the car into park. “So keep those hands to yourself. If it looks breakable, don’t even breathe near it.”

Both boys nodded and the three Winchesters stepped out the car. Dean hugged his jacket around him tighter and instinctively checked to see if Sammy had his zipped up. John was already headed towards the door, and the two boys hurried to catch up.

“How much do you think this place costs?” Sammy asked in wonder, head tilted back and mouth hanging open as he looked up at the vast mound of brick and wood.

Dean snorted, shoving one hand in his pocket and draping his other arm around Sam’s shoulders. “More than we’ll ever see. I’d say...close to a mil, at least.”

“Wow.”

Dean chuckled, and the two of them picked up the pace when John reached the doors and motioned for them impatiently. They were giant wooden double doors with panes of frosted glass down to Dean’s waist, nestled within a brick arch that encapsulated the entire stoop and opened on both sides, leading to an expansive porch. There was a small camera in the upper left corner, and Dean frowned up at it, shivering as a cold chill racked his body. 

John hesitated, looking torn between ringing the doorbell and simply knocking. He finally settled on knocking and they waited, hands in pockets and shoes scuffing against the stoop. The wind had begun to pick up, no doubt ushering in another cold front, and Dean was vaguely wondering how much more they could  _ take  _ when the door swung open.

Dean’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t entirely the picture of the man on the other side of the door. He was dressed in business casual, which  _ was  _ expected, in worn dress shoes and black pants, a tucked-in white button-up and blue tie. He had dark hair, neatly coiffed, pushed up off his forehead and swept to the side. But he was  _ tan-  _ much unlike any of John’s coworkers Dean had ever met, including Mr. Elkins- with broad shoulders, dark stubble littering his sharp jawline, and equally dark bags under excruciatingly blue eyes. He nodded and gave them a stiff smile, gesturing toward them with his beer, which hung loosely between slender fingers.

“John Winchester and…” he narrowed his eyes slightly toward Dean and Sam, “entourage.”

John plastered on a smile and held out a hand, which the man took. “Mr. Novak. These are my boys. Sam, my youngest, and that’s Dean. I hope it’s okay that they tagged along tonight.”

Mr. Novak nodded at Sam, then turned his intense gaze to Dean, giving him a nod and a smile, then withdrew his hand. “Just Castiel, please, John. And of course, you’re all very welcome.” He stood aside and held the door open, gesturing inside with his beer hand. “Please, come in.”

The three Winchesters shuffled inside, Dean filing last and softly shutting the thick door behind him. John muttered one last “don’t touch anything” before he was pulled into the crowd by a clearly already drunk co-worker. Dean bit his lip and looked around, amazed at how huge the place was and how many people could fit inside. It looked as though the party was already in full swing, and Dean realized him and Sammy were the only kids in attendance.

“Way to go, dad,” he muttered darkly, glancing at Sammy when he shuffled closer to Dean nervously. 

“There’s food in the kitchen,” Castiel’s voice broke through the loud murmur of the crowd and Dean almost jumped, looking up at the man with wide eyes. Castiel smiled at them both a bit apologetically, as if he knew just how bored they were going to be and probably wondering why their dad brought them in the first place. “And I should have some soda in the fridge. Help yourselves. Just that way.” He pointed with his beer hand to the room on the other side of the foyer, opposite from where the party appeared to be.

“Th-thank you, Mr. Novak,” Dean stumbled, grabbing Sammy’s wrist and giving the man a wide berth as he moved around him. 

“Please, just Castiel is fine,” he waved his beer with a shrug. “I’m not overly formal.”

“Okay, Mr. -uh, Castiel,” Dean tried the strange name and kind of wanted to ask where such a name came from, but the man was gone before he had the chance.

Dean dragged Sammy into the kitchen and breathed in relief when he discovered it was mostly devoid of boring business men and women. The spread was impressive and- yes, there was pie. Fucking awesome. 

“Dean,” Sammy hissed, looking around nervously. “Better not let dad hear you-”

“Calm down, Sammy,” Dean clicked his tongue as he gathered up two plates and started piling whatever he could reach. “Dad’s too busy schmoozing the new boss for a pay raise to care if I’m cussing.”

“Schmoozing isn’t necessary,” Castiel chuckled from behind them, and Dean almost dropped the plates as he spun around. Castiel was gathering more beers from the fridge, looking at them both with a raised a brow. “But your little brother is right; you shouldn’t use such language at your age.”

“Uh,” was Dean’s eloquent reply. 

Castiel just chuckled as he kicked the fridge door shut. “I’ll be sure to give your father’s salary some extra thought.”

Dean blinked and his shoulders sagged as the man winked at him, then turned and left. Sammy, unconcerned with it all, grabbed his plate of food and wandered off into the crowd. Dean huffed and grabbed his own, plate, then followed him out.

It was a surprisingly unstuffy party though, considering it taking place in nothing short of a mansion. The house looked almost staged; full of furniture and some relics, but otherwise devoid of personal touch. There were no pictures on the walls- save for an old one at the end of the hall of two kids playing with sparklers- and everything was  _ just so _ . Dean assumed it was due to the fact that Mr. Novak had likely only just moved in, since John told him the company brought him in from somewhere up North. It also explained the money. Northerners were known for coming to the midwest and down South and buying up what was cheap real estate to them. A house this size probably cost little more than a nice townhouse in a place like New York.

Sam caught up to John, who looked to be shamelessly bragging about him to a glassy-eyed man in a plaid shirt, which was no surprise. Sam was an exceptional kid by anyone's standards. Member of the math club, chess club, captain of the debate team at his middle school, and he was one of the basketball team's star players, his most recent growth spurt only adding to his value where that was concerned. Dean only had him by a few inches now, although he relished in the fact that his little brother still had yet to beat him when they wrestled at the house. It was one of the only things he could hold over him anymore. 

Dean held his plate in one hand, shoveling a mouthful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth as he turned away from the crowd and began wandering down one of the long hallways. There were a couple rooms on either side, all closed except one at the end of the hall, which was a large bathroom. Dean stopped and turned, heading back toward the source of the carried voices. He paused outside of one of the rooms, glancing up to make sure he was alone before trying the door. It was locked, as he expected, and he expected the rest were too, but with nothing better to do, he tried each one. 

He stopped again outside the doors to the living room, finding everyone deeply immersed in their own private conversations. Sam still stood with John, who had an arm draped around him and a beer in his other hand, gesturing toward a couple of men who’d gathered there. He recognized Miss MacLeod, the company’s receptionist with long, curly bright red hair and a strong Scottish accent, smiling brightly up at Mr. Novak as he spoke, one hand shoved in his pocket and the other holding his beer, which appeared to be nothing more than a casual placeholder since Dean was pretty sure he hadn’t seen him take so much as a sip of it since they’d arrived. Miss MacLeod had been Hoppmann’s secretary for as long as Dean could remember, often bringing them drinks or snacks while he and Sam waited for John to get off some days after school. In all those years, he’d never seen her look as interested in anything as she appeared to be now, bright red lips stretched into a wide smile, twirling her glass in her hand and straightening all of her five feet, three inches, and pushing out her modest chest in her not-so-modest black v-neck dress.

Dean sighed and wove his way through the throng of boring adults until he reached the kitchen. He snagged a couple pieces of pie and another soda and retreated into the cold of the huge backyard. The party was visible through the large glass doors as Dean sat in one the patio chairs, staring down at the tarp that covered the pool. He wanted to rescue Sam, but his little brother seemed to be enjoying the attention and there wasn’t much to do anyway. For all his money, Castiel didn’t even seem to own any video games. Dean silently vowed to never be a boring adult.

He was trembling as he finished off the second piece of pie when he heard the glass doors slide open, followed by a soft  _ click _ as they shut. Dean looked up, expecting to see Sammy or John, but blinked in surprise when he saw Mr.- no-  _ Castiel _ smiling at him a bit sheepishly.

“Don’t mean to interrupt,” Castiel sat in one of the other chairs and sighed as he dug out a cigarette, lighting up quickly. “Just needed some...air.”

Dean looked pointedly at the cigarette- and the irony of that statement- and Castiel chuckled as he took a drag. “Yes, I know. Trying to quit.”

Dean snorted and picked at the crust of the pie, feeling the man’s eyes on him. Not in a creepy way, just in an intense way. Like the man could dissect him and know everything him with just a single glance.

“Why do you, uh, need air?” Dean muttered, looking up as he popped some crust into his mouth.

“I don’t do well in large crowds for very long,” Castiel shrugged, smoke billowing from his lips. “The curse of the introvert, I suppose.”

“If you’re an introvert, why did you throw a party?” Dean asked, genuinely confused.

“Certain things are expected from a new boss,” Castiel said a matter-of-factly. “And I like to get to know the people who are going to be working for me.”

“Like Miss Macleod?”

Castiel snapped his eyes to Dean’s in such a sharp gaze that Dean was temporarily breathless. He swallowed and lowered his eyes, wishing he had listened to his dad and kept his smart mouth shut. 

“Yes,” Castiel finally said, his voice low and quiet, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Like Miss MacLeod.”

Dean kept his head down, staring at his lap and ignoring the way Castiel’s eyes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. After a few minutes, Castiel finished his cigarette and stood.

“Don’t stay out here too long. You’ll catch cold.” He flicked the cigarette into the yard and slipped back inside, and Dean could breathe once again.

He slowly finished his pie and downed his soda before finally getting up to head back inside, giving one last look at the large yard and pool, complete with an intricate wooden gazebo. He slid the door shut behind him and deposited his trash in the can in the kitchen, then made his way into the crowd in search of his dad and Sam.

Castiel was in the middle of speaking, so it was quiet in the room save for a small murmuring amongst everyone. Dean seemed to have caught the tail end of the speech when he walked in what he hoped was inconspicuously, although he could’ve sworn Castiel’s eyes darted straight to him the moment he entered the room.

“...and my goal is to expand on what Daniel Elkins nurtured here, to make American Hoppmann the most desired and reliable feeder and conveyor company not just in the midwest, but across the United States. Thank you.”

There was a light applause as Castiel awkwardly tipped his beer and walked away without preamble, and out of the corner of his eye Dean saw Miss MacLeod start off in the same direction.

“Dean!”

He turned to see John waving him over, standing next to a dark-skinned man in a green henley. Sam was back on his Gameboy again, brow furrowed, his thumbs moving a mile a minute.

“You remember Gordon, don’t ya?” John asked, his words already slurring a little. Great. So Dean would be driving home tonight.

“Uh, yeah. Think so,” Dean muttered, giving Gordon an obligatory smile. “Welding, right?”

“The only one worth his salt,” Gordon grinned, taking a swig of his beer. “How you been, boy?”

Dean shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets again. 

“Tenth grade this year, you believe that shit?” John continued, waving his beer around and throwing an arm around Dean. “When I started at the warehouse he was...what? Six years old? Time flies, man.”

“Time flies,” Gordon agreed robotically.

“I’m uh...gonna go get something to drink,” Dean lied, slipping out from his father’s grasp. “C’mon, Sammy.” He grabbed Sam’s sleeve and pulled him with him through the crowd, not stopping until they were in the hall, clear of people. 

“Where we goin’?”

“Dunno.” Dean chewed his lip, looking back and forth down the hall. “Let’s go check the place out. Plenty more rooms...maybe he has an X-box somewhere or somethin’.”

That was more than enough to convince Sam, who pocketed his Gameboy and followed Dean back down the hall toward the door. Where the kitchen was on one side, there was a virtually empty room on the other, that looked like it was supposed to be another living room, and a doorway on the far wall.

“This way,” Dean commanded, and Sam trailed behind as they beelined through the room. Through the doorway was another hall with rooms lining the walls, and between that and the living room was a staircase up to the second floor.

“Bingo,” Dean grinned, shooting Sammy a wink before he started up the steps.

“Dean, I don’t think we’re supposed to-”

Dean stopped and turned to him, gripping the railing with both hands. “Sammy, they don’t even know we’ve left. Plus I never have, nor will I ever be, in another house as fucking massive as this one, and I wanna see what’s upstairs.” He turned back and began ascending the steps. “All the cool shit’s probably up here, anyway.”

“Dean, I  _ really _ don’t think we should-”

“You wanna go listen to all that boring talk? Go right ahead.” Dean waved him off, annoyed with his little brother’s pesky sense of  _ right _ , and paused when he reached the top landing. He looked back to see Sammy gone and rolled his eyes. Heaven forbid Sammy break the rules even once.

The upper level was mostly dark save for what light was coming from downstairs. Just like downstairs, all the doors were shut. Dean tried a door and was surprised to see it was unlocked. Curious, he poked his head inside. It was decently sized library, shelves lining the walls and stuffed with more books than Dean would ever hope to read through in his lifetime. Sammy was the reader, Dean was more hands on kind of learner. 

He closed the door and tried another, then another. A guest bedroom here, a bathroom there, an office that looked virtually unused, and-

“Oh,” Dean jolted when he realized he was standing in the doorway of Castiel’s bedroom. He almost backed away, the rule of never entering his dad’s bedroom ingrained into his brain, but stopped short. He was overwhelmed with curiosity and stepped inside, looking around the large room. It was the only space that seemed to have some personal touch. A king sized bed, a picture or two on the nightstands, a bookshelf with well-worn paperbacks. It was all nice and tidy, a far cry from Dean’s room. He blamed the responsibility of constantly looking after Sammy for not having time to clean up, but his dad never believed that excuse.

Dean turned to leave when he noticed a curiously closed door. The doors to the closet were open in a casual manner, as if Castiel had left them that way in his rush to get ready. The one on the far left was closed tightly and- yep, locked. Dean frowned at it, wondering what could possibly be on the other side that would make Castiel lock it up, even within his own bedroom. 

“You aren’t supposed to be up here.”

“Shit!”

Dean jumped and turned, clutching his chest and breathing out heavily when he saw Castiel standing in the doorway, his arms hanging by his sides. He'd ditched the beer, Dean noticed idly, and he wondered if he'd actually drank it or if he'd poured it out. 

“You aren't supposed to be up here,” Castiel repeated, taking a step toward him, and in the dark it was hard to tell if he was actually angry or mostly indifferent. 

“I'm, uh…”

Dean took a step back, stumbling slightly, his hand sliding off the knob. Castiel stopped, his hands twitching by his sides. 

“S- sorry…”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing up here, anyway?”

Dean floundered. “I, uh, I was just-”

“It's impolite to help yourself to someone else's personal space, Dean.” Castiel took another step and stopped again, pulling at the base of his tie. He tilted his head. “Surely you know that.”

The sound of his name on Castiel's tongue shouldn't have affected him the way it did, and it took him by surprise when it sent a shiver through him. 

Castiel just stood there, finally crossing his arms over his chest, and when he spoke his voice was softer than before. 

“You should head back downstairs. Your father will be looking for you.”

“Uh, y-yeah.  _ Yes. _ I will,” Dean mumbled, pushing off the locked door when he realized he had pressed himself against it. He skirted around Castiel, his skin prickling and breaking out in a light sweat. “S-sorry again.”

He didn’t wait to hear whatever Castiel said. Dean practically ran out of the room and down the stairs, all the while feeling that intense gaze.

\----

It was another few hours before John finally deemed it time to go. Most others had left and even Castiel was missing, seemingly deciding his job as host was done. Dean hauled himself off the couch, taking John’s empty beer bottle from his hand, and tossing into a trash can when he poked his head into the kitchen to look for Sammy. It was, of course, empty and Dean sighed as he began his search for his wayward little brother.

“Sammy,” he called out, earning a few drunken glances from the last remaining guests as he wandered about the halls. “C’mon, man. Dad’s ready to go. I gotta drive us back…”

Dean stomped up to the second level when he couldn’t find his brother downstairs, thinking maybe the brat finally got up the courage to break one little rule. He checked the library, the office, the guest bedroom, and the open bathroom door proved Sammy wasn’t there either. He was about to give up when he heard some muffled sounds coming from Castiel’s bedroom. Dean hesitated, but curiosity got the best of him in the end. He cracked open the door, and stifled a gasp at the sight he was greeted with.

The muffled sounds were Miss MacLeod’s stifled groans, her face smashed into bed as Castiel’s powerful thrusts made her slide across the sheets. He stood at the foot of the bed, his stance wide as his hips snapped expertly, driving himself in and out with fierce determination. He gripped her thighs, keeping them spread wide, and she clawed at the sheets in ecstasy. 

Dean stared, because he couldn’t  _ not _ , but his gaze wasn’t drawn to the naked woman on her hands and knees. It was glued to Castiel, to his powerful thighs and strong arms, a hand pressed firmly to the small of Miss MacLeod’s back, pushing her down... the muscles on his back rippling, that thick cock-

Dean abruptly stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and falling flat on his ass in the hallway. He barely noticed the pain in his tailbone and scrambled up, running into the nearest room and slamming the door shut. 

He flipped on the switch to see that he’d found the bathroom, and he sat down on the toilet. His chest heaving, he and buried his reddened face in his hands. His blood pounded in his ears and his gut was clenching. Dean closed his eyes and all he saw was Castiel, his naked muscles strung tight as he moved.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Dean scrubbed at his face and clenched his thighs together, the throbbing between his legs alarming and insistent. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a reaction like this for a boy-  _ man _ , or even a woman, for that matter. The locker room at school was always a little awkward for Dean, but this was the first time the reaction had been so strong and  _ instant _ . Not to mention for a man easily twice his age. 

But Dean knew what he’d find if he opened that door, and he’d done it anyway. 

“Damn it,” Dean groaned, one of his hands gripping his thigh almost painfully. He couldn’t get that image of Castiel out of his head and throbbing wasn’t going away. Fuck.

\----

“What took you so long?” John slurred, eyeing Dean and Sam suspiciously. 

“Couldn’t find the loser,” Dean muttered, nudging Sam with his elbow. 

“I was in the bathroom!” Sammy pouted.

“There’s a million bathrooms in this place, Sammy,” Dean growled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Can we just go please? I’m tired.”

“What’s your problem?” Sam frowned and Dean shrugged him off, shifting on his feet. 

“Nothin’,” he said gruffly. “Let’s go.”

He managed to usher everyone to the car and his dad slid into the passenger seat without argument, buckling his seatbelt and slouching down in the seat. Sam buckled himself too, immediately going back to his game before Dean could even start the car and back it out of its spot. 

John stumbled into the house when they got home without so much as a word, and Dean held Sam’s door open for him as he tucked his game away in his pocket and slid out of the seat. Dean forced a smile and looped an arm around Sam’s shoulders as they walked inside, then followed Sam into his room.

“I don’t need you to tuck me in,” Sam rolled his eyes, sitting his game on his desk and shrugging off his jacket. Dean smirked and plopped down across his bed, propping himself up with an elbow. 

“I know. Just...I dunno. Wonderin’ what’s been up with you lately.” Anything to keep his mind off the dark hair and blue eyes invading his thoughts all night.

“On a Saturday night that’s different than what I told you when I got home from school yesterday? Nothing.”

Dean huffed and sat up, clasping his hands in his lap. “Okay, smartass. Just tryin’ to show some interest, is all.”

Sam sighed and tossed his jacket on an old chair sitting in the corner, then sat in his old wooden desk chair. “Dad’s doing a lot better, Dean. He’s been talking to me and he knows what I’ve got going on at school and all...you don’t have to do so much.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe I like hearin’ about what you’re up to. And besides...dad still has a long way to go. He still doesn’t know you got that President’s award, or whatever, does he?”

“It was the President’s Award for Educational Excellence, and yes, he does, actually,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “He said he’s coming to the awards ceremony next week, if he can get off, anyway. But Mr. Novak seems nice. I think he’ll let dad come.”

Dean abruptly sat up on the bed and cleared his throat as he stood. “Ah, yeah. Seems nice. Well, you know I’ll be at the ceremony. Night, Sammy.”

He left for his own room, ignoring his brother’s curious stare. Once safely inside his room and the door shut, Dean quickly shed himself of his residually sticky jeans, his face flushed with embarrassment. Thankfully his dad had been too drunk to notice anything and Sammy was too damn  _ innocent _ to notice anything. He fell into his bed and quickly shut off the lamp on his nightstand, pushing his head under his pillow as if that would dispel the images from his mind. It didn’t.

He just hoped Castiel didn’t notice that mess in the bathroom. Dean only missed the toilet a  _ little _ , thank you very much, and had cleaned it up as best he could, but with his luck, he probably missed something. Maybe Castiel had maids or something, and he’d never see it. 

Yeah, and maybe Dean could stop thinking of his dad’s boss’s too-perfect-for-words body.

“I am so  _ fucked _ .”

\----

Dean side-stepped around the table as he laid down silverware and napkins, trying to make their old secondhand table look as presentable as possible to host anyone besides themselves. Then again, when it was just the three of them, they didn’t typically eat dinner at the table anyway, usually opting for the living room in front of the tv or separate bedrooms. They hardly ever had visitors at all, much less for dinner, and if he was being honest with himself, Dean wasn’t really even sure how to be a proper host in his own house. 

“Don’t understand why we’re doing this anyway,” he muttered bitterly as he straightened one of the forks, then purposefully and spitefully moved it again when he realized what he’d done. “It’s stupid.”

“Because,” John said patiently, bringing over a covered pot of mashed potatoes with oven-mitted hands and setting them on the table, “I’m tryin’ desperately to make a good impression, son. We got the end of the year push coming up and reviews shortly after that, and you know what follows reviews?”

Dean sighed, looking away to roll his eyes. “Raises.”

“That’s right.” John peeled off the gloves and handed them to Dean, then ruffled his hair. “I know this isn’t our thing, but it’s important to me, okay? I’m tryin’ to make a good life for us, for you boys, and I need to do all I can to get there. And if that means kissing the boss’s ass, well-”

Dean groaned and retreated back to the kitchen to check on the bread, finding the rolls needed a few more minutes before they were ready. He grabbed the handle of the ancient pot the green beans had cooked in and took it to the table as the knock at the door came, and John waved a hand at Sam.

“Go on and grab the door, Sammy, if ya don’t mind.”

Sam jumped up from the couch and pocketed his Gameboy, opening the door with a friendly grin and a wave.

“Hi, Mr. Novak,” he said cheerfully and Dean almost rolled his eyes again.

“It’s Casti-” Castiel paused and shook his head, accepting the inevitability that the youngest Winchester was never going to call him by his first name. “Hello, Sam.”

Sam stepped aside and Castiel walked into the modest living room, complete with a threadbare couch and a rug that had seen better days. John refused to throw it out, though, seeing as Mary had been the one to pick it out. The small home was littered with items like that, things that the late Mrs. Winchester had personally chosen and thus was untouchable. 

“Mr. Novak,” John breezed into the living room, free of oven mitts. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“John, please,” Castiel sighed as he shrugged off his coat. “We’ve known each other since high school. Enough of the ‘Mr. Novak’ nonsense.”

“You knew each other in high school?” Dean blurted out from the kitchen, poking his head out through the entryway. 

“Dean, don’t be rude,” John said tersely. “Say hello to Mr.- Castiel.”

Dean hoped no one saw his blush and the way he averted his gaze as he held out his hand. “Uh, hello, Mr.- _ shit _ -Castiel.”

“Dean, watch your mouth,” John hissed.

Castiel chuckled and firmly shook Dean’s hand, either not noticing or politely not mentioning the sweaty palm. “That’s alright, John. I seem to remember you having quite the mouth at 16.”

“Yeah, well. We all want better for our children, don’t we?” John smiled, gesturing toward the kitchen. 

“Wouldn’t know,” Castiel said blandly, shuffling past Sam into the kitchen and bracing himself on the backs of one of the chairs, whites of his knuckles showing. 

“Don’t think Miss MacLeod wants children one day?”

Dean looked to Castiel, who stared at John blankly for a solid few seconds before just barely tilting his head, smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Again, I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh.  _ Oh,  _ I thought you two were-”

“It became very clear very quickly that Rowena and I want...very different things,” Castiel explained. “I don’t think I’d be reaching to say anything that may have been there was over just as soon as it’d begun.”

Dean almost let out an audible sigh before mentally kicking himself and averting his gaze from anywhere close to Castiel. He went back into the kitchen again to check the bread, using an oven mitt to pull the pan out and turning off the oven as he heard John try to dig himself out of an extremely awkward conversation. So...dinner was going pretty well already.

Dean carried the rolls to the table and doubled back for the chicken, placing that in its spot and joining everyone else at the table. He sat in his normal spot and tried to look nonchalant when John motioned Castiel into the seat across from him, like he’d be able to eat a fucking bite with Mr. Intense Blue Eyes staring at him the entire time. He tried to look solely down at his plate, only looking up to take the dishes that Castiel passed him as they all loaded their plates. Before they’d even begun eating, though, that tactic proved to be problematic when Dean spilled his sweet tea everywhere while trying desperately to avoid looking at Castiel, but he just used the opportunity to distract him for the next five minutes while the conversation continued around him. 

“...and Dean taught him how to play, after all-”

“Hmm?” Dean jerked his head up from dabbing the tea pooled onto the floor, nearly hitting it on the table. “What?”

“I was just telling Castiel how you taught Sam how to play chess, since he just won that tournament,” John said, spearing a bite of chicken and waving it in Dean’s direction. “Basketball too, come to think of it-”

He knew based on how the hairs stood up on the back of his neck that Castiel was staring at him, but he made a point not to make eye contact.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it’s…’s no big deal.” He shrugged and finished soaking up the last of the tea before depositing the paper towels into the trash and sitting back down. 

“So what kinds of things are you interested in, Dean?” came Castiel’s voice, and they may not be used to casual dinners with practical strangers, but even Dean knew enough to know it was common courtesy to look at someone when they spoke directly to you.

“Um,” Dean pushed around his mashed potatoes with his fork, wishing Castiel would stop looking at him and also knowing that if he did Dean would miss it. “Dad enrolled me into football, so there’s that. Uh-”

“He’s amazing at computers,” Sammy piped up with a smile, swallowing a mouth of chicken. “He’s building his own, too.”

Castiel raised a brow, never looking away from Dean. “Oh? That’s impressive, Dean.”

“If he can pull it off,” John shrugged and Dean dropped his gaze, steeling his expression. “Playing those games on the computer doesn’t make him a tech genius, Sammy. Computers are complicated. Kid’s great at throwing that pigskin, though,” John said to Castiel, giving Dean a pat on the shoulder. “Not too bad under the hood, either. Be a great mechanic one day. Work with all sorts of cars. Every boy’s dream. Sammy, here, he’s destined for college. Plunk him down in any class and he’ll get that A.”

“ _ Dad _ .” Sam pouted, sinking down in his seat with an embarrassed frown. 

Castiel swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin before folding and placing it neatly back on the table while Dean tried to think of anything other than the vision of the man roughly fucking Miss MacLeod into the mattress. They almost seemed like two completely different people.

“What kind of computer are you building, Dean?” Castiel asked, seeming legitimately interested.

“Oh, it’s uh, not for any particular reason. More just to see if I can do it.” He shrugged and looked down as he pushed his food around with his fork. He couldn’t say what it was  _ actually  _ for, since he was planning to surprise Sammy with the finished product for his birthday- a custom gaming computer. He had little more than the processor purchased so far, and he’d need to bank many more hours at Bobby’s garage for the money for the other parts, but he was confident he could get it completed before May.

Castiel hummed and nodded, but didn’t look away, instead furrowing his brow as he watched him. 

“So, uh...so you two went to school together,” Dean said again, trying desperately to steer away from the awkwardness of Castiel’s stare.

“Yes.”

Dean waited for Castiel to elaborate, but he only shoveled a small bite of potatoes into his mouth, like his simple ‘yes’ was more than enough explanation. 

“Didn’t even realize it was him at first,” John said with a laugh, taking a sip of his tea. “Dunno how, he looks the exact same-”

Castiel smiled as he wiped his mouth again, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Mmm, I believe I was much more...rested, back then. Had a bit more life in my eyes, too. To be young and naive.” 

Dean didn’t realize that  _ he  _ was the one staring at Castiel this time, until that gaze was back on him, and he looked down quickly as he felt the backs of his ears heat.

“We didn’t really run with the same crowd,” Castiel continued by way of explanation. “John was much like you, Dean. Sports, very hands on. But then, he was never the type to show any kind of interest in technology and the like.” His mouth quirked in the corner. “That was more my domain.”

Dean blinked at him. “Did you...did you just make a computer joke?”

Castiel just smiled and speared a piece of chicken, and Dean once again had to look away at the sight of the man’s lips wrapped around his fork, however briefly it may have been.

The rest of dinner was pure torture for Dean as he tried- and failed- to keep his eyes off the enigmatic man sitting across from him. Conversation centered around Sam and work, and thankfully Dean was able to keep himself out of it for the most part. Eventually, after everyone had their fill, Sam disappeared into his room, Castiel and John retreated into the living room with John’s good whiskey, and Dean did his regular duty of cleaning up. 

As he washed dishes, he swore he felt Castiel’s eyes on him, but every time he looked up Castiel was deep in conversation with John, his eyes nowhere near Dean. 

_ Stop letting your mind play tricks on you, Winchester. _

With a rough shake of his head, Dean scrubbed furiously at the plate and snorted at himself for being stupid enough to think a successful,  _ much older _ man would be so engrossed in some silly high school boy. Jesus.

Whatever. It wasn’t his first stupid crush and it won’t be his last. Boys his age crushed on everyone. Locker room talk told him half the boys in his school had crushes on their hot teachers, and in their defense, Mrs. Tran  _ was _ pretty fine. This was totally normal. Minus the guy part, but Dean always kept that weird part of himself locked up tight. 

By the time he had the dishes cleaned, dried, and put away and the leftovers stashed away in the fridge, Castiel was saying his goodbyes. Dean nodded and mumbled a ‘goodnight’ before Castiel disappeared out the door. He sagged his shoulders, ready to crawl into bed and listen to some really loud AC/DC. 

“Aw, shoot,” John’s voice brought him from his thoughts. “Castiel forgot his coat. Dean, be a sport and run it out to him?”

Dean couldn’t even open his mouth to refuse before John shoved the coat into his hands. He sighed and slipped outside, the door shutting as he jogged up to the car.

“C-Castiel,” Dean stumbled over the name, coming to halt by the man just as he opened his car door. “Uh, your coat. Sir.” He held it out, keeping his gaze on the cracked pavement. 

Castiel raised an eyebrow, waiting a beat before taking the coat. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean mumbled some iteration of “you’re welcome” and turned to leave.

“Dean?”

He turned back to Castiel and forced himself to look up at him. “Yeah?”

Castiel draped an arm over the top of his door, his jacket clutched in his hand. “If you end up needing any help with that computer, I’d be more than happy to assist. Technology, electronics...they were my first love. I’ve picked up a thing or two over the years. And I could probably find you some pretty good deals on parts, too.”

Dean’s hands fidgeted by his sides before he finally had the good sense to stuff them in his pockets. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Of course.” Castiel held up a finger and ducked into his car briefly, depositing his jacket and grabbing something out of his center console. He straightened and closed the door behind him, and Dean stiffened as he walked over, holding something out to him that was hard to make out in the dark. “Here. This has my personal number and email. You have any questions, feel free to use either.”

Dean gathered the courage to actually  _ look  _ at Castiel this time when he said thank you, and the man gave him a genuine smile and a small nod before Dean pocketed the business card and started back toward the house again. 

“And Dean?”

Dean stopped and closed his eyes briefly, then turned back to Castiel slowly, finding him still standing in the same spot. Castiel shoved his hands in his pockets and took a couple of steps toward him, glancing toward the house before fixing his gaze on Dean again as he stopped in front of him, in Dean’s opinion, entirely too close for comfort. When he spoke his voice was low, a deep whisper, causing Dean’s skin to prickle.

“Those looks you give are going to get you in trouble.” There was a brief flash of an amused smile that danced across his features, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. “They’re going to get us  _ both _ in trouble.”

Dean did an amazing impression of a fish, his eyes wide as he worked to say something, anything, to that while his heart tried to jump right out of his chest. Castiel just looked at him, amused and too fucking calm, before giving one last look at the house, licking his lips, and turning to climb back into his car. The engine started and Castiel was down the road, and Dean was standing there like an idiot with his mouth hanging open and his throat growing dry.

Finally, with the cold seeping into his uncoated skin and his throat hoarse, Dean found some words.

“I am  _ so fucked. _ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**2 years later**

“What are you gettin’ me for my birthday, loser?”

            Sam grinned and lifted his freakishly long leg, putting his socked foot right into Dean’s face. Dean gagged and pushed it away, and Sam laughed like the giant brat he was.

            “You’re just jealous because I finish my time at that prison known as school in a few months,” Dean snorted, rubbing at his nose to rid it of the smell of Sam’s foot.

            “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Sam grumbled, bent over a thick Calculus book. “Stop pretending you don’t like it. We both know you’re smarter than half the teachers there. The only reason you don’t make A’s is because you don’t try.”

            “What’s the point?” Dean grunted and pushed off the couch to get dinner started. “Dad’s money is going to putting _you_ into college. I’m destined for a garage, remember?”

            “Dean-”

            “Shut up and think about what you’re getting your big brother for his 18th birthday.”

            “Oh, right,” Sam snorted. “When was that again?”

            “ _Today_ , bitch,” Dean yelled from the kitchen.

            “Jerk!”

            Dean chuckled as he helped himself to a slice of the cherry pie that their neighbor, Ms. Moseley, made and brought over especially for Dean’s birthday, complete with neat basket weave crust on top. She was a little older and her son and granddaughter lived out of state, so she spent a lot of time visiting them, and Dean always offered to go over and check on her five cats when she was gone.

            “Want some pie?” Dean called from the kitchen.

            “Nah!”

            “More for me,” Dean mumbled to himself, pulling a fork from the drawer and digging into the cherry filling. “Hey, d’you get the mail this morning?”

            “Yeah, it’s on the counter,” Sam called from his room. “Oh yeah, there was something in there addressed to you. Real fancy lookin’.”

            Dean nodded and took another bite of pie as he walked over to the far end of the counter where they typically stacked the mail, shuffling through it with one hand and holding his plate with the other. The letter addressed to him was indeed fancy-looking, with elaborate script on the front and sealed with wax on the back.

_To Mr. Dean Winchester_

_2409 Brush Creek Dr_

_Lawrence, KS 66047_

            Dean frowned and, to his credit, only _almost_ inhaled his bite of pie when he read the simple Novak scrawled in the left-hand corner. He sat his plate quickly on the counter and slid his hand under the seal of the envelope, tearing it open and pulling out a blank white card, with more of the gorgeous script on the outside.

_Dean_

_I admittedly do not often buy gifts for anyone of your age or tastes,_

_but a gift in the form of a check, I’ve found, is almost always_

_preferable to typical material possessions._

_You may spend it whatever way you wish to; however, it does just so happen to be the exact amount_

_of a year’s tuition at the University of Kansas. I hear they have an excellent computer engineering program._

_Happy Birthday._

_Best,_

_C. Novak_

            Eyes wide and heart pounding, Dean fished out the check and quickly scanned it, his throat going dry.

            “Holy shit,” he whispered, swallowing thickly. The check was very real and...yeah, that was a lot of zeroes. It would cover the year’s tuition _and_ the books. Not that Dean had been looking at KU or anything, or researching night classes. He just happened to be very knowledgeable in college prices.

            Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Sam shuffling around in the living room. He quickly pocketed the card and check, his palms sweaty from having that much money in his pocket, and resumed eating his pie. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell Sam, but his little brother was horrible at keeping his mouth shut about stuff like this, and Dean definitely didn’t want John finding out. Knowing his dad, he’d either get pissed that someone was “giving them charity” or he’d somehow guilt Dean into handing the check over to him to put money towards their old house that was in constant need of repairs.

            Unfortunately for John, Dean was damn good at keeping his secrets.

            “What are you making for dinner?” Sam called from the living room, his head popping up from the couch.

            “I’m grilling,” Dean said, swallowing his last bite of pie. “Burgers and hotdogs.”

            “I want both.”

            “Of course you do,” Dean snorted. “I don’t know how you stay so skinny when you eat everything in sight.”

            “Good genes?”

            Dean grumbled as he began prepping the hamburger meat, laying out neat rows of patties.

            “Got people coming over?” Sam asked as he hopped up on the counter and watched Dean season the beef.

            “A few,” Dean shrugged. “Charlie, Ash, and Benny.”

            “No Kevin?”

            Dean snorted a laugh. “Are you kidding me? That dork is studying for finals.”

            “But it’s January.”

            “Exactly,” Dean smirked. “He’s already two months behind.”

            Sam blinked and frowned. “You have weird friends.”

            “Yeah?” Dean smiled and grabbed the platter of patties, turning to head outside and prep the grill. “You gotta weird face, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

            He didn’t hear Sam’s response before closing the door behind him, sitting the plate of patties down to turn on the gas and light the burners. He hopped up on the railing of their old deck and started scrolling through his phone while he waited for the grill to heat. He opened his contacts, his finger hovering over Castiel’s number, thinking it would be at least polite to call and let him know he received his card, even though there was no way in hell he could accept that much money from someone he barely knew. Not to mention, John would surely find out where the money really came from, because he’d never believe that Dean got scholarships to go. And honestly, there’s no good way to explain away why Castiel, John’s 40-something-year-old boss, would be giving an 18-year-old he barely knows tuition money. It looked bad, all the way around.

            But then, Castiel didn’t seem the type to recognize or care about typical social norms.

            Dean stared at the number, considering what he would say to Castiel if he did call him, and his mind came up completely blank. They were both decently awkward in person, and he has a feeling it’d be that much worse over the phone. Not to mention, they hadn’t seen each other in over a year, since the last time John invited him for dinner, although Dean suspected he’d have him over again in the coming months to start prepping for upcoming review season again. Dean didn’t know if all the sucking up actually worked or if John was simply good enough at his job that Castiel considered him worthy of a raise, but he’d been given regular raises since Castiel started working there over two years prior.

            “Heya, Dean!”

            Dean jumped and fumbled with his phone before finally locking it and sliding it in his pocket as he jumped down, grinning widely as his friends slipped through the backyard gate.

            “Hey, ‘bout time you all showed up,” he pulled Charlie into a big hug, her long red hair getting in his mouth as usual.

            “Whatever,” she shoved at his chest. “We’re just on time.”

            “Alright, burgers,” Ash grinned, hooking an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “You’re awesome, man. Cookin’ on your own birthday.”

            “That’s only because none of you can cook to save your life,” Dean laughed.

            “Hey now,” came Benny’s drawl. “I can cook.”

            “Yeah, Bubba Gump,” Ash rolled his eyes and slipped through back door to grab some soda from the kitchen, Benny close on his heels. “You can cook _shrimp_.”

            “Shrimp’s good.”

            Dean chuckled and slapped on the first couple of patties, the beef hissing and steam rising.

            “So, 18,” Charlie smiles, taking a Coke from Benny and falling into one of the ratty patio chairs. “Congrats. You can now smoke and go to war.”

            “Yippee fuckin’ doo,” Dean muttered.

            “Sex, too,” Ash, ever the mature one, grinned and chugged his drink.

            “Right, ‘cause his age stopped him before,” Benny snorted and leaned against the railing.

            “I’m just sayin’,” Ash shrugged. “It’s legal now. He can bang Mrs. Tran if he wants.”

            “Kevin is gonna kill you if you keep talkin’ about his mama like that,” Benny warned.

            “That nerd can’t throw a punch,” Ash grumbled, but he didn’t mention Mrs. Tran again. Nerd or not, Kevin had a feisty streak. Courtesy of his mom, no doubt.

            “Anyway, Dean’s seeing _Lisa_ now,” Charlie taunted with a grin. “And he didn’t have to wait until he was legal to hook up with her-”

            “I’m not _seeing_ Lisa,” Dean insisted, flipping the patties over and closing the grill. He sat the spatula to the side and turned to face them, crossing his arms. “It’s a mutual...whatever it is. We don’t, like, go on dates or anything. I think she just calls me when she’s bored.” He shrugged. “Works for me.”

            Benny hummed and nodded as Ash hopped up on the railing, pulling his legs up with him and balancing precariously on the edge.

            “Where’s your dad?” he asked, looking around the yard, as if John would magically be standing somewhere out there.

            “Work,” Dean grunted. “Overtime, I think. He doesn’t typically work on Saturdays. He should be home in an hour or so, probably.”

            “Think he’d buy us beer?” Ash grinned, and Dean snorted.

            “If you’re feeling brave, you can swipe a few from the fridge and hope he doesn’t notice.”

            Ash seemed to consider it but ultimately shook his head, huffing and pulling his knees to his chest.

            John actually arrived almost two hours later, with a Dairy Queen ice cream cake in tow, declaring “Happy Birthday Dean!” in royal blue gel icing. He also handed him a small, unwrapped jewelry box, with a wide grin on his face, the dimple in his cheek visible even through the salt and pepper stubble. Dean thanked him and set it to the side to begin cutting the cake for himself and all his friends, but John grabbed the knife from him and waved him off, cutting into it himself.

            “I got it, son.” He cut the first piece and handed it to Dean, then gestured to the box, grinning widely again. “Well? Aren’t you gonna open it?”

            “Right now?” Dean picked up the box and frowned down at it, rubbing his thumb across the textured top.

            “Hell yeah, right now!” John exclaimed excitedly as he continued cutting slices of cake. “C’mon boy, I been looking forward to this for months.”

            Dean snorted, the backs of his ears heating as he felt everyone’s anticipatory eyes on him. He slowly shimmied the top off the box, finding two brand new keys on a keyring, laying on top of practically balled up tissue paper. Keys that looked like his dad’s. The _Impala’s_ keys.

            “Dad, you...are these-?”

            “She’s all yours, Dean,” John said, still grinning, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. “I went today and picked up my new truck just so I could give her to you. I know you’ll love her just as much as I did, take good care of her-”

            Dean jumped up before he could finish and threw his arms around his dad’s neck, and John chuckled and returned the hug briefly before Dean realized what he’d done and pulled away. Neither of them were big on affection, but in this case Dean felt it necessary, and John didn’t seem to mind.

            John cleared his throat and resumed cutting the cake into painfully equal little squares, and Dean kind of felt like a ten-year-old again. For anyone else, this would be embarrassing, but for Dean it was a welcome feeling. And his friends preferred the simpler things, anyway. They weren’t the type to get rowdyy and drink- except maybe Ash. And he was too high half the time to really care what was going on.

“Can I drive her, Dean?” Ash begged, eyeing the keys with envy.

“No,” both Dean and John spoke. Dean chuckled when Ash sulkily took his piece of cake and wandered off.

“Does this mean you can drive me and Jessica around?” Sam grinned, his mouth full of his piece.

“No, bitch, you can walk your ass,” Dean teased, grinning when John finally handed him a big slice of cake.  

“Language,” John said half-heartedly, handing a piece to Charlie.

“We should take a drive after burgers,” she suggested. “Christen the occasion.”

“Hell, yeah!” Ash came busting back into the kitchen, his pout gone along with his cake. “We can open her up on one of the back roads-“

“At least pretend to wait until I’m gone before you start talking about doing stupid stunts,” John swatted Ash’s mullet and ambled outside, Dean and his friends following.

“Hey, Mr. Winchester, can I have a beer?” Ash asked, already inching towards the kitchen.

“You are some kind of stupid, boy,” John grunted. “Dean, make better friends.”

“So, a car,” Charlie said as she pulled up one of the old patio chairs and took a seat, crossing her ankles. “Can’t ask for much better than that for an 18th birthday, huh, Dean?”

“Yeah,” Dean said with a crooked smile. The check in his pocket suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, like if he moved the wrong way it would tear a hole in his jeans and land directly in John’s lap. He really _couldn’t_ have asked for a better birthday, surrounded by his family and closest friends, complete with keys to the most beautiful car he’d ever laid eyes on and a check that would more than cover his first year at university, should he decide to go.

Still...such a strange gift for someone who barely knew him to give. He’d heard of charity cases like this; people footing the bill for college or housing for those who couldn’t otherwise facilitate. But Castiel barely knew Dean, had only met him a handful of times, and most of their meetings had been rather ordinary, save for the one in which he’d made a comment that Dean had almost convinced himself never happened. It hadn’t been mentioned since, and in fact, Castiel seemed utterly unbothered by Dean’s presence at subsequent meetings, save for the occasional staring. But even that was in such a way that Dean could write it off as almost anything else.

That’s not to say thoughts of Castiel hadn’t been the primary material anytime he gets a little handsy with himself...or anyone else, for that matter.

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to pull his focus back on keeping up with the conversation around him. It was difficult, though, keeping his mind off Castiel. Even though he hardly saw the man, ever since that night at the party-or, even more, that night Castiel spoke those words to him- Dean had slowly sank into an admittedly unhealthy obsession. One would think after two years the crush would’ve cooled off, but it only seemed to grow hotter.

And now it looked like he’d have to speak to Castiel about this check, because there was no way he could keep it.

They all chatted while the sun slowly set and Dean was pleased to see John only go through two beers before he called it a night, leaving the teens to their own devices.

As Charlie suggested, they all piled into the Impala and took her for a spin, Dean grinning the whole time. Despite his better judgement, Dean _did_ get on a back highway and open her up, the engine roaring as they sped down the empty road.

It was a little after 11 when Dean was dropping the last of them off and for the first time since he’d gotten the check, he was alone. He parked the car and dug it out, sliding his thumb over Castiel’s signature. Before he knew what he was doing, he was aiming the Impala for that big house. He still remembered how to get there, even after only have been there once, and around 11:30 Dean found himself sitting in Castiel’s driveway.

Despite the time there were still several lights on in the house, so Dean breathed a little easier knowing he wouldn’t be waking him. Still, he half considered leaving and coming back the next day, only realizing once he was looking at the house how insane it was that he drove a half hour there at almost midnight, to ask a man he barely knew why he gave him a small fortune for his birthday.

Finally he cut the engine and clenched the check in his fist as he got out of the car and slammed the heavy door behind him. He was up the walkway and knocking loudly on the door before he could change his mind. There was nothing but silence behind the door at first, no signs of any movement inside, so Dean knocked again, louder this time, then rang the doorbell a few times for good measure.

When the door did open several minutes later, a messy-haired, very breathless, very _sweaty_ Castiel opened the door, wearing black sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a black t-shirt that hugged his chest and waist in such a way that Dean _definitely_ didn’t need taking up space in his memory. He had a pair of headphones strung up through his shirt, one hanging in the V of the shirt and the other still in his ear. He frowned and tilted his head as he pulled the other headphone out, lowering it slowly to his chest.

“Dean?”

Dean tried to focus on the task at hand, so he took a breath and held the hand with partially crumpled check out in front of him. “Why did you send me this?”

Castiel’s frown deepened, like that question had the most obvious answer in the world, like he couldn’t understand why Dean would even question it.

“Today’s your birthday.”

“People don’t just _give_ people they barely know over twenty grand for their birthday.”

There was a beat before a slow smile spread across Castiel’s face, and he leaned casually against the door. “I think if one has the money, they’re inclined to spend it however they wish.”

Dean didn’t know what to say back to that right away, so he instead gestured toward Cas incredulously. “What the hell you doin’, anyway?”

“Running.”

“...it’s midnight.”

“Yes.”

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “What are you doing running at midnight?”

Castiel shrugged. “Helps me sleep in times that I’m particularly wound up. I might ask why _you’re_ driving to my house at midnight, if you’re so concerned with the time.”

“I-” Dean clicked his jaw shut, realizing he had no good answer for that. And was this really the first conversation he was having with Castiel after a year of not seeing the man?

“Look,” he shook his head and held out the check, licking his lips and trying not to stare at Castiel’s clavicle. “I can’t take this, okay? It’s just- it’s too much.”

“Hardly,” Castiel said evenly, making no move to take the check. “It’s an investment.”

Dean blinked at that. “An...investment.”

“Yes.”

Dean waited, but Castiel didn’t elaborate. He stared at him, his hand slowly lowering.

“You’re not gonna take this back, are you?”

Castiel smiled and shook his head. “No.”

“Damn it,” Dean stuffed the check back into his pocket. “You know, I could just rip it up.”

“True,” Castiel consented, tilting his head, and for fuck’s sake, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “But you won’t. You’re smarter than that.”

“I’ll spend it all on stupid shit,” Dean said desperately.

“Refer to my previous statement.”

Dean huffed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, hunching over against the cold.

Castiel eyed him for another moment even as Dean attempted to avoid direct eye contact, and he finally took a step back, gesturing to the hall.

“It’s cold out. Why don’t you come in for a few minutes, and I can explain myself.”

Dean scuffed the toe of his shoe against the patio and looked back and forth between the inviting house and his car, ultimately deciding- against his better judgement- to step inside. Castiel moved back to let him through and closed the heavy door behind him, then held a hand casually out toward the smaller living room...the unused one from the night of the party. There was a gas log fireplace that was burning hot, and Dean took a seat in one of the chairs in front of it, tucking his hands between his thighs.

“The way I see it,” Castiel began without preamble, “giving you that check is doing nothing but investing in your future. A future you might not see, but I can see very clearly.” He sat across from Dean, drawing a leg up and holding his ankle over his knee. “I can see what you think of yourself, how little your father sees of your intelligence, especially in comparison to your brother’s perhaps more obvious intelligence. Without help, without just a little _push_ , you’d let yourself believe you’re no better than that mechanic job that it’s painfully obvious to me you do not want for yourself.” He paused, sighing. “I sort of have a...knack for recognizing a good investment, Dean. I firmly believe your education is a very good investment on my part.”

Dean frowned and furrowed his brows. “Why? What difference would it make for you?”

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know the future. But I don’t see how investing in your intelligence could hurt me in any way, so why not? Besides, given your skills, maybe you could work for me one day. The industry is desperate for minds like yours.”

“You…” Dean rubbed his hands between his thighs and bit his lip. “You’d want me to work for you?”

“Sure. Well,” Castiel scratched absently at his stubbled cheek. “In a few years, after you’ve...ripened a bit.”

Dean’s ears and neck heated, and he looked away. They were talking about work and yet that word had his blood pumping. Castiel didn’t mean any innuendo his mind was making up, but there was no helping his reaction.

Castiel stood and walked over to the small bar situated against a wall, pouring two glasses of something Dean couldn’t see, but by the color of the liquid he guessed brandy. Castiel wordlessly handed one over to Dean and sat back down, leaning back with a sigh.

“Uh,” Dean glanced down at his glass. “I’m not-”

“If you’re old enough to die for our country, I don’t see any reason why you can’t have a drink with a friend.” Cas tilted his head knowingly. “Don’t play innocent with me.”

Dean flushed again. Yes, he’s drank before, but he generally avoided the stuff. Not because of some morale thing, but because he was genuinely terrified that he’d inherited the alcoholism trait from his father. John has gotten better over the years, but he still had his bad days.

“Besides,” Castiel continued, taking a sip from his own glass, “there’s no chance I’d allow you to drive home if I even suspected you wouldn’t be okay. It’s just enough to take the edge off.”

Dean swallowed hard and eyed the glass, then took a small sip, surprised at how easily the stuff went down. He shifted uncomfortably as Castiel watched him, his glass resting on his knee.

Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh-”

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen you,” Castiel said conversationally, giving him a quick once-over. “You’ve grown. It’s been...what? A year or so now?”

Dean sat his glass on the table beside his chair and spun it between his fingers, shrugging. “Yeah, thereabouts.”

“Mmm.” Castiel watched him over the rim of his glass. “And how’s Sam?”

“He’s, uh, good,” Dean said quickly. “You know, doin’ the Sam thing. Kickin’ ass and takin’ names at everything he does.” He huffed. “Got a girlfriend now, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Jessica. Sweet kid, helps me keep him in line.”

Castiel quirked a brow. “I didn’t realize he needed help in that department.”

“Oh, Sammy doesn’t break rules or anything,” Dean rolled his eyes, tapping his nail against the side of the glass. “He just...sometimes he loses perspective.”

“How so?”

Dean looked up and was startled to see Castiel was actually _listening_. Not only listening, but intently and with interest. Like he actually gave two shits about what Dean had to say.

“It’s...just,” Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I love my brother. Spent damn near my whole life taking care of him and...I dunno, that might be part of the problem.”

“He doesn’t understand the value of hard work.”

Dean frowned. “Not...necessarily? Spoiled is the wrong word, but he’s had it easy, you know? Dad never really gave him any responsibilities and things were kind of handed to him. So when something doesn’t go his way, sometime he can act a little...bratty.”

Castiel pressed his lips together, staring into the liquid in his glass. “I...noticed that. The first night your father invited me over.” He set his drink down and clasped his hands together. “Sam had mentioned you cooked the meal, and then you cleaned everything up while he played his game.”

“It’s not his fault,” Dean said quickly, his hands twitching. “It’s just how dad did things. And he’s not _spoiled_ , he just-”

“You don’t have to defend him with me,” Castiel said gently. “I know Sam is a good kid, but I also think you’ve been pushed to the side for some reason I cannot fathom, especially since you’re seemingly his primary caretaker.”

“N-no, it’s not-” Dean frowned and took a quick swig of his drink, nose scrunching slightly. “Not like that, really-”

“Why do you feel like you need to be the one to take care of Sam?”

“Because I...because it’s my job.”

“But it’s not.”

“It _is_ , I-”

“You’re only...what? Three years older than your brother? Four? It’s not _your_ job to take care of him. It was your father’s. And now he’s growing into a young man who can more than begin taking care of himself, and soon he’s not going to need you for anything anymore. And the idea of that scares the hell out of you.” Castiel sat his glass down again and leaned forward, his clasped hands falling between his knees. “It’s also why you’re here tonight, arguing with me over money that you and I both know you want to keep, to go to a school you and I both know you want to go to. You can’t accept the help, because you never _had_ the help before. And if you take it now, you’re leaving your father and brother to fend for themselves.”

Dean bristled slightly, his hand gripping his glass. “That’s not...my dad, he’s not a bad guy-”

“I know that.”

“So what are you…” Dean eyed him, brows furrowed. “Look, I didn’t come here for therapy. I came here to give you back this check and leave.” He stood suddenly and pulled the check from his jacket, thrusting it toward Castiel, who simply sat back in his chair and shook his head.

Dean huffed irritably. “I’m not taking it back with me, so-”

“Then I’ll continue to rewrite it, and I’ll continue to send it,” Castiel said with a shrug. “So why waste the effort?”

Dean scoffed and turned on his heel, stalking out of the room and toward the door. He yanked it open and was hit with a wall of cold air, so he pulled his jacket tightly around his body as he started down the walkway.

“Dean.”

He whipped back around, finding Castiel standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, looking far more casual than he had any right to.

“What?”

“When you’re ready to talk about your dad, about Sam, about...any of those things that weigh on your mind when you should be worrying about yourself…” he held out his hands briefly and let them fall to his sides, “I’ll be here. I’ve been told I’m... _helpful_ , in situations like yours.”

Dean shifted on his feet. “Helpful how?”

Castiel smiled a smile that Dean would spend the rest of the night in bed trying to decipher and fail miserably. The damn check got tucked away in his desk drawer, under his magazines, because Cas had been right. He didn’t tear it up and he had every intention on using it. Maybe his dad didn’t believe in him, but someone did. And that thought was very comforting.

\----

**Two months later**

Dean eyed the enormous amount of groceries wearily and heaved a heavy sigh. “Dad...seriously.”

“Dean, I shouldn’t have to remind you,” John grumbled as he put a gallon of milk in the fridge, “reviews are coming up. And there’s already been a few who got...let go.”

“Fired,” Dean said simply.

John frowned down at the several tubes of ground beef he bought.

“Dad,” Dean continued, “he’s not gonna fire you. You’re one of the best he has. You and I both know if he’s gonna fire anyone, it’s gonna be the assholes who slack off. Like Gordon.”

“Gordon was the best-”

“But he didn’t do the job,” Dean threw his hands up. “How many times have you come home complaining about him? He’s the reason you had to do overtime on my birthday. Castiel is fair, but he doesn’t seem the type to pay people for shit performance. Gordon took advantage of you, Castiel, everybody. _That’s_ why he got fired. You do twice the work of anyone. You’re _fine_.”

John huffed and threw the meat in the freezer. “Couldn’t hurt to suck up a little.”

“He’s your high school buddy,” Dean rolled his eyes and started helping in putting the food away. “I don’t get why he makes you so nervous.”

“Old friend or not, he’s still my boss, Dean,” John eyed the strawberries he bought critically before placing them in the fridge. “Castiel is an easy-going guy, he has his hands in a lot of companies, not just this one. He’s more powerful than he lets on, and at the end of the day, he’s running a business. He has to treat me like any other employee.”

“Well, inviting him over after a year of nothing might seem kind of suspicious,” Dean muttered as he put away the seasoning tonight’s steaks.

“I’ve invited him plenty of times this year,” John griped, closing the fridge door. “He declined every time.”

Dean paused and for some reason his heart began to pound. “Oh. Uh, why?”

“I dunno,” John shrugged. “Busy guy I suppose. He doesn’t have time to mingle with the peasants.”

Dean clicked his tongue and closed the pantry. “I doubt he thinks that way, dad. Like you said, he’s just...busy.”

He rubbed his palms on his jeans, trying to dispel the thought that Castiel not coming over had anything to do with him. That was just stupid. He was just some kid, hardly worth mentioning.

“So,” Dean said, hopping up on the counter and watching as John put away the last couple of grocery bags. “How’d he end up some bigwig up in New York, anyway?”

John shrugged as he laid out the makings for chicken casserole, which was one of the only things he knew how to cook. Sam had plans for the night with Jess that Dean was required to drive him to, but at the very least it meant Dean had the night off from kitchen duty. Until the meal was over and it was time to clean up, as John would likely have a few drinks in him at that point, given it’s what he and Castiel usually did after dinners like these.

“He was always into that computer shit you and Sam like so much. And I’ll give it to him, he was one of the few that knew his way around a computer at Lawrence High back in the 80s. I seem to remember him teaching the instructor a thing or two.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” John pulled the sour cream from the bottom shelf of the fridge and straightened as he shut the door again, then began searching through the cabinets for the cream of chicken soup and stuffing. He pulled out the box of stuffing and waved it around. “Coding, operating systems, processors, programming, yadda yadda...you name it, he could tell ya about it. Anyway he went directly from high school to NYU and I think started working for one of those big computer companies directly out of high school. But that somehow led him to engineering, then managing...the company he was with saw a significant revenue increase in the 6 years he managed for them, so the execs at Hoppmann offered him a buttload of money to come back home and do the same thing for them.”

“Hmm…” Dean rubbed absently at his chin. “Still. Even if I was offered all that money I’m not sure I’d leave New York for friggin’ Kansas.”

John snorted a laugh and shrugged a shoulder as he double checked the recipe on his phone. “Yeah, well, I’m not too surprised. Castiel was always a bit of a loner. Didn’t like being around a lot of people. He’s grown out of his awkwardness, but I’m betting he jumped at the chance to leave such a busy city. It’s quieter here and Castiel seems to like quiet.”

Dean eyed his dad for a moment and tilted his head. “For someone who ran in a different crowd you seem to know a lot about him.”

John looked up as he grabbed the chicken from the fridge. “Well, he basically got me through high school. He was my tutor almost all four years. He’s the only reason I passed some of those classes. Even if we weren’t what you would call friends exactly, after spending so much time together one can’t help but get to know him.”

“You thought he was a big nerd,” Dean grinned, and John laughed.

“Yeah, and he was.” He pointed at Dean and raised a brow. “But nerds rule the world, son. Remember that.” He tapped him on the arm. “Alright, get outta my way.”

Dean hopped down off the counter and crossed the kitchen, plopping down in one of the kitchen chairs. “So...he was never married? No kids?”

“Ah, no? No, not that I know of. And obviously he didn’t date very much in high school, you know...used to think he had a thing for your mother, but turns out he’s just that nice to everyone, so…” John turned and winked at him, “I didn’t have to kick his ass.”

Dean snorted, watching John carefully as he turned back to his task. The death of their mother was the _reason_ John struggled the way he had over the past several years, and he’d only just begun to get better again. He hardly used to even be able to talk about her in casual conversation, but tonight it didn’t even seem like he missed a beat, which Dean inwardly celebrated for him. Maybe he and Sam _would_ be okay without Dean.

“Why’re you so interested in Castiel all of a sudden, anyway?” John asked nonchalantly as he set the oven to preheat.

“‘M not,” Dean said quickly, pretending to pick at some link on his shirt. “Just makin’ conversation.”

John hummed and the conversation died as he concentrated on making dinner. When Sam emerged from his room, ready to go, Dean grabbed his keys and the two climbed into the Impala.

“So where am I taking you two lovebirds?” Dean asked, turning the car onto the road to drive the short distance to Jessica’s house.

“Roadhouse,” Sam grumbled with a blush, shoving at Dean’s shoulder. “And don’t call us that.”

“Roadhouse, huh?” Dean grinned. “How romantic. Beer, loud music, and greasy burgers.”

“She _likes_ the Roadhouse,” Sam huffed. “And so do you.”

“Well, yeah, but I’m a greasy burger and loud music kind of guy.” He glanced at Sam, still grinning. “You know you’re too young to drink, right? Maybe I should chaperone-“

“Don’t you dare,” Sam glared at him. “We’re not going to _drink_ , jerk. We’re having dinner then walking to the theater for a movie. Besides, Ellen’s there. She’d rat me out.”

Dean reached over and ruffled his hair. “Aww, c’mon Sammy-”

“Stop!” Sam batted his hand away, brow furrowed in a frown. “I mean it. I’m not a little kid anymore, so _stop_ treating me like one.”

Dean tried to pretend that comment didn’t slice through his very core, his smile fading slowly as he gripped the steering wheel and looked straight ahead. “Yeah, alright. Bitch.”

He wasn’t even sure when it happened; when he turned from older brother to parent in Sam’s eyes, but it sure felt like the sting of rejection to him, and it hurt a hell of a lot more than he’d prepared himself for.

            He turned up the music and kept his eyes on the road, not saying another word other than a brief ‘hello’ to Jessica when she got in the car, and he got nothing more than a ‘bye’ from Sam when they arrived at the Roadhouse. Dean watched them until they got inside and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before backing out of his spot to head back down the road.

            He remembered sixteen well. It was the age that he really started _parenting_ Sam, although he’d taken care of him for years. He took him to all his events, doctor’s appointments, helped him with homework, cleaned his room, cooked his meals, made sure he was in bed before it got too late. But for everyone else, sixteen seemed to be the selfish age, and Sam certainly appeared to have inherited that. Dean hoped, at least, that it meant he’d done something right raising Sam, if he’d come out essentially like every other kid his age.

Sixteen was also the age his grades began to slip. Sam was right, Dean didn’t really try anymore. He could get A’s in most of his classes if he simply applied himself. But taking care of Sam has been a full time job. Dean had often gone to bed exhausted, his homework forgotten, his dinner uneaten, his room a mess. He had tried to keep up, but when he realized his dad had no intention of sending him to college, Dean let it go. Why burn himself out when it wouldn’t amount to anything anyway?

Nowadays wasn’t much different. His dad pushed him to work more hours at the garage and insisted he help pay bills or repair things in the house. He was still in charge of dinner most of the time, and a good portion of the cleaning done around the house. And while getting the car was nice, he knew it came at a price. He was now in charge of taking Sam wherever he needed- or wanted- to go. Dean still went to bed exhausted, most of his own needs unmet. He couldn’t really remember when he’d had any down time, aside from his birthday. And even then he had to grill.

Dean huffed and rubbed at his eyes as he drove back home. It was easy to feel bitter about it all. John wasn’t a bad guy, or a bad dad necessarily, and Sam wasn’t a bad kid. But if Dean allowed himself to dwell, like he was now, he always ended up feeling he drew the short straw in his family.

            He sniffed and blinked back the tears he hadn’t realized had begun to blur his vision, angrily slapping the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. He turned up his music and barrelled down the road, not slowing until he pulled into their gravel driveway, knowing his dad would have a fit if he saw him driving Baby so recklessly. Even still, she kicked up a cloud of dust as he braked and put her in park...all over Castiel’s sleek new Hybrid. He sniffed again and wiped his nose on his sleeve as he got out of the car and slammed the door shut, with a little more force than necessary.

            Castiel was sitting in the living room alone when Dean entered, clutching the ankle resting on his knee with one hand, holding a drink in the other. Dean pointedly ignored him, trying to get to his room before he could tell he’d been crying, but Castiel said his name softly, gently, and Dean stopped in his tracks. He’d tell himself later that it would’ve been impolite to keep going when someone spoke to him, but in honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure what made him stop.

            Castiel sat his drink on one of their shabby wooden side tables and stood, tilting his head at Dean as he approached. He stopped a foot or so away, tapping his own thigh absently.

            “Are you alright?”

            Dean kept his gaze on the floor in front of him. “Just...got stuff to do before dinner,” he mumbled. “‘M fine.”

            He tried to take another step but Cas’s hand shot forward and grabbed his chin, firm but gentle, and forced him to look up at him. Those blue eyes searched his face, his brow furrowed, eyes downturned in the corners, full lips a dusty pink and slightly chapped from the cold. Dean’s breath caught in his throat and he tried to look angry, standoffish, guarded, but he had the feeling that he hadn’t accomplished any of those, what with the way Castiel always seemed like he could see right through him.

            “No,” Castiel tilted his head slightly the other way, “you’re not.”

Dean swallowed, eyes darting away only to snap right back. Something about Castiel’s gaze commanded his attention despite how much he wanted to run and hide. The grip on his chin was steady, firm, and commanding, but gentle enough that Dean could pull away if he really wanted to. Instead he found himself leaning into it, the simple touch more than he ever got on a typical day.

“Dean?” Castiel spoke gently.

“Dean? You home?”

He blinked and Castiel was across the room, sipping at his drink and looking way too damn casual for what had just transpired. Dean coughed and rubbed at his damp eyes.

“Y-Yeah,” he called out.

John poked his head from the kitchen and frowned. “You already drop Sammy off?”

Dean nodded, inching towards the hallway so he could hide in his room for a few minutes.

“Boy, if you were speeding in that car-“

“I wasn’t,” Dean said carefully, an edge to his voice.

John looked like he didn’t believe him, but dropped the subject since they had a guest. “Well, say hello to Castiel. You two haven’t seen each other in a while, huh?”

Dean ignored Castiel’s raised eyebrow and nodded to him, forcing a smile. “Hey, Castiel. How’s, uh, the business?”

Castiel blinked. “Profitable.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, not giving two flying fucks at the moment. “Excuse me, I gotta...go take care of something before dinner.”

“Hurry back,” John called to his son’s retreating back. “I need you to set the table.”

Dean’s heart pounded in his chest as he practically launched himself into his room and shut the door behind him, leaning heavily against it as he caught his breath. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it until his lungs started burning, and even then he didn’t know how long he’d been holding it. His skin still tingled from Castiel’s touch and he reached up and touched his chin, heaving a sigh and letting his head fall back against the door with a _thud_.

He was so confused, his emotions so all over the place that he didn’t know how to react, or how he was going to make it through a whole dinner without Sam as a buffer. Castiel unsettled him in a way that he couldn’t yet decide was good or bad, but he also intrigued him. His very presence was enough to make Dean forget about anything else. On the way home he’d been ready to collapse, out of exhaustion, out of anger, out of hurt, an almost palpable weight on his shoulders to contain. But as soon as he saw Castiel, as soon as the man uttered his name, all of that stopped and it was all he could do not to fall into his arms. It frightened him that he couldn’t explain why.

And when he touched him, he felt safe. He felt like it would be okay if he broke down and cried, if he showed the weakness that he always felt he had to suppress for his dad and for Sam. That it was welcomed, even… that Castiel _expected_ it of him.

Jesus, he had to stop these thoughts. No good ever came from letting his mind wander when it came to Castiel. It lead to things that he really didn’t want to explain to his dad of all people.

Dean rubbed his hands over his face roughly and checked his eyes in the mirror. They were once again dry, if a little bloodshot and glassy. Luckily his dad probably wouldn’t even notice.  He gathered himself, carefully emptying thoughts of Castiel and whatever the hell the man was making him feel, and stepped out of his room. He crossed into the kitchen quickly and began setting the table, taking extra care so as to keep his mind focused. Once set, they all sat to eat, his dad immediately launching into whatever stories he had saved up about work and Sam and whatever the fuck else. Dean wanted to scoff at how obvious John was being, clearly sucking up to get a good review by mentioning every Saturday he’s pulled overtime, but honestly he was thankful it kept Castiel’s attention mostly off him. Only mostly, because Dean’s neck would prickle every once and while, and he knew that meant Castiel’s intense gaze was on him.

Dean kept expecting Castiel to bring the conversation around on him, but the man seemed to sense he wasn’t in the mood to chat. They got through dinner, had some desert of strawberry shortcake, and John and Castiel drank in the living room while Dean cleaned up. Castiel had offered, but Dean shook his head and mumbled a simple “I got it”, taking the dishes to the kitchen before Castiel could object.

He was barely paying attention to anything as he washed dishes, his mind a blissful blank slate, so it came as a surprise when Castiel was saying his goodbyes. Dean hardly looked at him as he uttered a ‘bye’, too afraid of what he’d see, too afraid of what he’d do.

The door closed behind Castiel and Dean went back to cleaning up, tubbing up the leftovers just as there was a timid knock on the door. He blinked and looked up, seeing that John was nowhere in sight. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, swinging the door open-

“Oh,” Dean blinked up a sheepish Castiel, his hand sliding from the doorknob. “Uh, hi. You forget something?”

“Ah, no…” Castiel cleared his throat. “My...car doesn’t seem to want to start.”

“Um.” Dean looked past him to the car and back into the house, and hearing no sound from the living room, assumed John was either passed out on the couch or already gone to bed. “I guess I can take a look at it, see if I can figure out what's going on.”

Castiel nodded, stepping back, his trench coat ruffling at his sides. “I would appreciate that.”

“Just… gimme a second. I'll be right there.”

Dean let the door swing shut and he slid on a pair of shoes and a jacket, grabbing the flashlight from the hall closet and heading out into the cold. Castiel was already standing back over at his car with the hood popped, his hands in his coat pockets, frowning down at the engine.

“Not dead, I don't think… lights and radio come on when I try to start it.”

Dean hummed and leaned over the car, shining his light onto the nearly pristine engine. “Could just be a blown fuse. If not that, maybe the ignition switch, but you'd prefer the fuse. Lot cheaper to fix.” He felt his cheeks grow hot as soon as the words left his mouth, because of course Castiel didn't care how _much_ his car would cost to fix.

“Admittedly, I know nothing when it comes to vehicles,” Castiel said from behind him, his voice closer than Dean expected it to be. He turned his head to see the man craning his neck to see over Dean's shoulder, and he gave him an almost apologetic smile and a shrug. “I suppose I care more about the environmental effect of a car rather than the logistics of them.”

“Right.” Dean straightened and cleared his throat. “Well, uh. I gotta go pick up Sam and his girlfriend anyway. I can give you a ride home and get this fixed up tomorrow after school, if you'd like.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Dean let the hood drop and wiped his hands on his jeans, though there wasn’t much need. Castiel’s car was almost spotless. “You can hang out inside. Dad’s probably already passed out. I won’t be too long. Unless you want to just tag along.”

“Yes, let’s do that,” Castiel said quickly, then tugged at his jacket awkwardly. “Nothing against your dad, but I don’t really want to hear another work story. Best not risk him waking up.”

Dean snorted a laugh and fished out the keys from his pocket. “I told him he was being too damn obvious.”

“He really has no need,” Castiel mumbled, following Dean to the Impala and sliding into the passenger seat. “He’s one of my hardest workers. I have no reason to terminate him.”

“Okay, Arnold Schwarzenegger,” Dean chuckled and started her up, backing out of the driveway. “Sorry about dad. In his defense, he hasn’t done one of these dinners in a while.” Dean paused, glancing at Castiel. “Not for lack of trying, though. He, uh, said you’ve been turning them down all year.”

It was silent for so long that Dean had given up on expecting an answer from the other man, but as soon as he pulled up to the theater Castiel spoke so softly Dean almost missed it.

“I find it’s best to avoid temptation.”

Dean’s hands tightened on the wheel and his breath caught in his lungs. But Sam and Jessica were getting in, chatting and giggling and being generally annoying, and Castiel was looking out the window, and all Dean could do was drive and pretend he didn’t hear those words.

Dean looked up in the rearview at Sam and Jess as they settled into the backseat and buckled their seatbelts.

“So what’d you guys end up seeing?”

“Ummm...just the new X-men movie,” Sam said casually with a shrug, but Dean could hear the slight slur of his words and the obviousness of him trying to hide it. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and set his jaw.

“Right.”

“Hey, Mr.- uh, Cas- Castiel,” Sam said uncertainly, leaning up between the seats. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Just getting a ride home, is all,” Castiel answered robotically, giving Sam a small smile before Dean could feel him fixate on him once more.

Dean backed out of his spot without another word and turned the music up just loud enough that he couldn’t hear what Sam seemed to think was quiet whispering to Jess, both the tenseness of his anger and the prickly feeling he got when Castiel stared at him making it an uncomfortable ride. They dropped Jess at her house, their porch and living room lights still on, since her dad always insisted on waiting until she got home to go to bed himself. Dean waited until she got inside before pulling out again and driving home, and he slammed the car into park and got out without a word, holding Sam’s door open for him and closing it roughly behind him when he slid out of the seat.

“What-”

“Get in the house. Now.”

Sam frowned incredulously. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Dean scoffed, pushing Sam’s shoulder, nudging him toward the house. “My problem is you’re sixteen, and you’re drunk. Nevermind that actual fact that you’re drunk, because hell, I’ve been there too, but you did it out, in public, _god knows how_ , and then…” he shook his head, “and then you _lied_ to me about it!”

Sam shrugged his hand off, jerkily pulling his jacket around him. “Why do you even _care_?”

“What the- what the hell do you mean ‘why do you care’? Because you’re _my responsibility_ , that’s why!”

“No I’m _not_ -”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean grabbed his arm and started maneuvering him toward the door. “If not me, then who? Who else is gonna be there to take care of you-”

“I don’t need to be taken care of, Dean!” Sam finally shouted, loud enough to make Dean jump slightly and make the dog next door start barking from the window facing their house. “God, you’re always throwing that in my face, about how you have to do everything for me so you can’t do anything else, and I never asked for you to do that! Stop blaming the way your life turned out on _me_.”

Dean’s anger boiled just beneath the surface again and he took a deep breath, trying to push it back down. “I don’t blame-”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam interrupted, taking a step toward him, the two of them only inches apart, which is when Dean noticed that Sam was actually a hair taller than him now. “You talk all the time about how you have to do this or that for me, but then turn around and bitch because it keeps you from doing what you want. You know what I think, Dean? I think you’re just using me as an excuse because you’re too scared to actually try to do something for yourself because you might fail. You keep saying you want to do something with your life but you’re so fucking _scared_ -”

All Dean could see was red when he felt his fist connect with Sam’s face, the blood pumping loudly in his ears, so loudly that he only just barely heard a voice over it. Strong hands were on his arms, then around his chest and pulling him up, and when the red cleared Sam was still sitting on the ground with a hand rubbing his jaw, blood running down his split lip.

“That’s enough,” Castiel’s voice came from behind him, against his ear, and he pulled him a few more steps back before letting go and holding a hand out against his chest, the other out toward Sam. “Are you okay? Do you need me to-”

“I’m fine,” Sam grumbled, and he scrambled to his feet, throwing Dean one last glare before slinging open the door and disappearing inside. Dean watched him go, only then realizing his fists were still balled by his sides, one of them aching from the force of the punch, tears involuntarily welling in his eyes, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Castiel took a step toward him, looking him over. “Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean tried to focus on him through the tears and failed, quickly turning away to walk back to the car before he could tell he was crying. “‘M fine.”

He made it all the way to the Impala and had his hand on the door before Castiel caught up with him, covering his hand with his own on the door handle to keep him from opening the door. Dean stiffened and sniffed loudly, pointedly looking down in the opposite direction as Castiel pried his fingers off the handle.

“I’ll drive.”

Dean considered protesting, but he was tired and pissed, so he simply nodded and walked around to slide into the passenger seat. Castiel started up the car silently and pulled it back onto the road, the rumbling engine the only sound for the whole drive. When they came to a stop in front of Castiel’s house, Dean hardly noticed, staring unseeingly out the window until he felt a firm hand on his arm.

“Come inside.”

Dean found himself moving, obeying the soft command without much thought, following Castiel up the drive and through the big door. Dean shuffled into the smaller living room and fell onto one of the couches, rubbing at his watery eyes while Castiel fussed with the bar for a few minutes. He came back with two glasses, handing one to Dean, who took it wordlessly and gulped it down. He wasn’t ignorant to the irony of this situation, punching his stupid little brother for getting drunk then crashing at an older man’s house to drink away his frustration.

 _Well_ , he thought numbly, _not everyone is perfect_.

Dean sighed and set his glass down on a small table, rubbing at his eyes. “Sorry ‘bout all this,” he murmured, refusing to look up. He was partly embarrassed for how he acted, how Sam acted, but mostly embarrassed because it was _Castiel_ who saw it all. He wasn’t sure why or when the man’s opinion of him became so important, but he desperately didn’t want to disappoint Castiel. Didn’t want to seem like any other immature 18-year-old kid.

“It’s alright, Dean,” Castiel said softly, his voice much closer than Dean was expecting. He looked up and found Castiel sitting next to him- when did he get there?- and sipping casually at his drink.

“It’s not,” Dean shook his head, clenching his still sore hand around his knee. “Goin’ off like that-”

“I hate to condone violence,” Castiel started with a shrug, “but...I heard what he said to you. Could almost smell the alcohol on his breath from the car. I’m not saying he deserved it, but... I _could_ have stopped the first punch.”

Dean looked up at him and almost immediately away again, unable to let the fierce gaze see through him now.

“How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine.”

“Can I see?”

Dean clenched his fist. “It’s _fine._ ”

He heard Castiel sigh and the soft clatter of his glass against the wood table, felt the couch shift slightly before warm hands took his sore hand, gently straightening each of his fingers until his hand was resting on Castiel’s palm. He expected the hand carefully, just barely brushing the tips of his fingers over Dean’s before laying it back down and withdrawing his hand. Castiel stood and walked away without a word, and Dean waited patiently, breathing shallowly as he listened for him.

He returned a few moments later, sitting in the same spot and holding out his hand palm up, which Dean eyed curiously. Castiel waited patiently until Dean got the hint, laying his throbbing hand there, which Castiel immediately covered with a small ice pack.

            Dean stared blankly at the gas logs, trying to think of something to say while simultaneously hoping that Castiel would be the one to break the silence. The situation wasn’t wholly uncomfortable, but it was a weird dynamic, and he wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed with it. Castiel was enigmatic at best, and Dean could never tell where they stood. There were times he felt that Castiel was as equally interested in him as he was in Castiel, but then again, the man could apparently go a whole year without even seeing him, while Dean couldn’t seem to get him out of his head for a whole day.

            “You understand that Sam was just saying those things to hurt you.”

            “Yeah, no shit.”

            “What I mean is,” Castiel said patiently, laying Dean’s hand on the couch and adjusting the ice pack over it again, “it’s clear how much Sam looks up to you, and I do think he’s very appreciative of everything you’ve done for him. I can’t imagine how he wouldn’t be. But he’s a kid, and kids are-”

            “Pricks,” Dean said bluntly, and he heard Castiel huff.

            “Plainly, yes.”

            Dean and Castiel sat in a relatively comfortable silence, the cool and gentle pressure on Dean’s hand a small comfort compared to the simple presence of Castiel. He sat close, warm and solid, and Dean was overcome with that feeling of _safe_ again. It was crazy to feel something like that for a man he barely knew, who barely knew him, who he quietly obsessed over for years. Dean tried to shake it, to make himself get up and drive home, but he had no desire to do either. Call him selfish, but he wanted to stay in this expensive, comfortable haven and ignore the responsibilities waiting for him back home. So he didn’t protest when Castiel refilled his drink, instead welcoming the fuzzy-headedness.

            “What did you mean?” Dean suddenly asked as he drained his glass again, swinging his head to look at Castiel. “‘Bout...avoiding temptation.”

            Castiel stiffened and pressed his lips together. He clasped his hands between his thighs, drink held in his palms, and stared down at the liquid. Finally, after a horribly long pause, Castiel downed his drink in one go and stood.

            “You should sleep,” he said, avoiding Dean’s gaze. “You look exhausted. I have several guest bedrooms and I insist you stay the night, clear that head of yours.”

            Dean cleared his throat and shook his head. “No...no, I...gotta make sure Sam gets up and to school tomorrow-”

            “So set an alarm,” Castiel said, taking Dean’s empty glass and inclining his head toward the kitchen in invitation as he walked out. Dean stood and followed, holding his sore hand up to his chest, the ice pack over it. He leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen while Cas rinsed the glasses and sat them in the sink, then turned and crossed his arms over his chest.

            “He’ll wonder where I am.”

            “He knew you were coming here. Besides, he’s probably already asleep.”

            Dean narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want me to stay?”

            Castiel opened his mouth and closed it again, then licked his lips quickly and shrugged half-heartedly. “You’ve been drinking. It’s unsafe for you to drive.”

            “Right.” Dean nodded once, furrowing his brow. “And that’s it, then?”

            Castiel stared at him, tongue resting at the back of his teeth like he was about to speak, gaze falling and rising again. “Yes.”

            Dean huffed a laugh, looking down at his feet and shaking his head. “Yeah. Okay. Of course.” He’d been stupid to even consider it was anything other than Castiel being friendly, anyway, but he supposed it was the alcohol making him brave. He wasn’t even sure what he expected him to say, what he _wanted_ him to say.

            “And Dean?”

            Dean hung his head another few seconds before finally looking back up at Castiel, raising an eyebrow.

            Castiel tilted his head to the side, his hands moving to grip the counter behind him. “Probably best your father doesn’t know you stayed here. Wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

            “O- _oh_ …” Dean cleared his throat and glanced away, his voice rough. “Yeah. Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.” He took a breath, unsure of how he should feel about that, rubbing absently at the ache in his chest. Stupid to feel rejected. What Castiel was suggesting was perfectly reasonable and he wasn’t responsible for being the personal obsession of a random kid he only knew as one of his employee’s son.

            “That, uh, guest bedroom still upstairs?” Dean asked, hoping it would distract him.

            Castiel’s lips quirked in the corner and he nodded once. “Yes.”

            “Awesome,” Dean nodded. “I’ll just, uh, get out of your hair then.”

            Going upstairs brought back all sorts of memories and thoughts, and he walked quickly past the bathroom he’d hid in before slipping through the door of the guest bedroom. He closed the door and leaned against it, breathing heavy, ice pack clutched in his hand.

            He wanted to know what Castiel meant by avoiding temptation. He wanted to know what he meant when he said the looks he give would get them into trouble. He desperately wanted to know that he wasn’t going crazy or reading too much into things like some lonely, touch-starved kid vying for the attention of someone who otherwise would never look his way.

            But that’s what he was. Lonely and touch-starved. Desperate for someone strong enough to take the wheel and be in control, in charge. He was _tired_ , and angry, and for once _he_ wanted to be taken care of, looked after, maybe even doted on. For just one day he’d like to know what that was like. He wanted to shed his responsibilities, ones he’s had since he was kid, and not worry about anything or anyone.

He suddenly remembered his and Castiel’s conversation the night of his birthday, and what the man had said as he was leaving, about being there to talk when he was ready. Against his better judgement, despite the things Castiel had said tonight, the memory had him throwing open the door and making a beeline for Castiel’s bedroom without giving a thought to how inappropriate it was. He knocked loudly on the door with his good hand, the sound only then breaking him out of his brief trance, and he shook his head and took a step back. He was about to tuck tail and run back to his room when the door opened, Castiel standing on the other side, looking nearly as formal as he had in the kitchen, only his tie mussed, like he’d been in the middle of taking it off. He frowned when Dean didn’t immediately speak, because he was looking past him at the bed, remembering the night he’d first met Castiel, first developed his obsession, then accidentally walked in on him roughly fucking Miss MacLeod, which subsequently led to easily the best orgasm he’d ever had by his own hand...in the man’s bathroom.

He hadn’t realized that Castiel had been saying his name until Castiel opened the door a little wider and stepped forward, pulling the door almost closed behind him, dipping his head to catch Dean’s gaze.

“Are you alright?”

Dean shook his head slightly. “Y-yeah, fine, it’s just…” he bit his lip, running his tongue over the temporary indentions, “what you said the other night, I think...I think I’m ready to talk. About Dad and Sam.”

Castiel straightened, his nostrils flaring slightly, inhaling sharply and nodding sincerely. “Okay. Yes, okay. I can help with that.”

“We don’t have to tonight, I don’t want to keep you up or anything, I just...I dunno. I wanted to tell you that tonight...for some reason.”

“We can talk whenever you’re ready to, Dean. It’s my job to listen, and as such, I will be ready when you are. You can’t always just _decide_ the best time. Sometimes it just...hits you. This is just me, making myself available to you. For whatever you need, whenever you need it.” Castiel’s gaze never wavered, intense and sincere, and for once, Dean was going to allow himself to believe that the double entendre in Castiel’s words weren’t in his head.

They were standing too close and Dean could smell Castiel’s cologne, his natural scent hiding underneath the spice, drawing him in. Castiel’s neck looked too inviting, the collar of his shirt flared open and begging Dean to bury his nose in it. He wanted to rub his cheek against that stubble, peppered lightly with little gray hairs, feel it scratch on his skin.

“What if…” Dean cleared his dry throat, swallowing thickly, his hands trembling. “What if what I need is...you.”

He watched Cas inhale sharply again, those eyes darkening, and Dean forced himself to plow through before his nerves got the better of him. “And what if when I need it...is now.”

“Dean…” Castiel breathed, licking his lips quickly.

“I need...need to get out of my head, Castiel,” Dean spoke, voice trembling with the effort to get the words out. Words he’d never spoken out loud. “I need someone I can come to, some _where_ I can come to, where I don’t have to be the big brother or the responsible son. Because I think it’s slowly turning me into something I don’t want to be. I’m angry, and bitter, and _tired_ , and you...you may say they appreciate what I do, but I wish for once they’d show it. Not because they have to, but because they want to.”

Castiel looked like he was about to say something, but all that came out was a cross between a hum and a sigh. He searched Dean’s face, swallowing hard.

“Tell me I haven’t imagined it,” Dean said after what felt like a long time, leaning in so close he could feel Castiel’s breath on his forehead. He looked up at him through his lashes. “The way you look at me, the things you want for me, the things you’ve said... tell me I haven’t imagined that you want to be that person for me.”

“You haven’t,” Castiel said finally, shaking his head slightly. “But it’s more than that. There’s more- you need to know everything, before you make this decision.”

Dean frowned and pulled back to look up at him properly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Castiel paused and chewed his lip, “I need to make sure we’re on the same page. And if we are, we need to establish a few things, before...beforehand.” He sighed, looking torn, his eyes downturned in the corners. “But for right now...what can I do for you now? Do you want to talk? We can go back downstairs-”

“Yeah,” Dean said quickly, nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that. But I need…” he looked away, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

“Need...what, Dean?”

“I just…” something in Castiel’s demeanor made Dean look back up at him, and the man’s face was gentle, unassuming, non-judgemental. “I need you to touch me. Please.”

Dean half-expected him to draw back, for his forehead to wrinkle in disgust- for Dean having misinterpreted all the signs, despite Castiel ensuring him he hadn’t. But Castiel’s lips just turned up slightly in one corner, for a half a second, before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips and he raised his hands up slowly, bringing them to rest on Dean’s cheeks. Dean’s eyes fluttered shut as the warmth of Castiel’s hands sunk into his skin, shivered when his thumbs began stroking his cheekbones softly. He slid them down to Dean’s neck eventually, then slowly pulled him forward against his chest, pressing his cheek against the side of Dean’s head as his arms wrapped around him.

Dean sank into the embrace unabashedly, enveloped in a cloud of _safe_ and _warm,_ so comforting and unexpected that Dean’s worries immediately faded away. For once his mind quieted and he wasn’t bombarded with the near constant thoughts of Sam, and it was almost sad how much his responsibility to his brother took up space in his head. How much his sixteen years of parenting when he himself was still a kid had drowned out what made Dean _him_. The abrupt silence in his head made him realize how much he had defined himself around his job of taking care of Sam and all the other jobs his dad pushed into him. It was almost frightening because he suddenly had no idea who he was, who he _really_ was, and not the big brother skin he always wore.

But exciting, too, to know he might have a chance to explore himself now. With someone who made him feel inexplicably safe, despite being a man he hardly knew that was more than twice his age. Ultimately it didn’t matter. Dean would’ve given anything to feel before what he felt in that very moment.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Dean who finally pulled away when it was clear that Castiel wasn’t going to. Castiel’s hands moved back up to his neck, fingers ghosting over his skin as they slid back up to his cheeks again, and he held Dean’s face between his hands, dipping his head slightly to look at him.

“I can promise you now that I will never underestimate how difficult any of this is for you. I will never make you feel less than, or unwanted, or out of place. And if there’s a time that you’re ever uncomfortable by something I say, do, or  _ don’t  _ do, I expect you to tell me. Understood?”

Dean nodded and swallowed hard, his throat going dry. “Yes.”

“In addition, your father can absolutely not know about this...no matter the affiliation you wish to have. I will leave it to your discretion who you  _ do _ talk to about it, if anyone, with the understanding that it is not a viable pathway to your father. It would make my professional and personal relationship with him...very tricky.” Castiel raised his eyebrows slightly, giving him a quick nod. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and nodded, standing to his full height, and Dean immediately missed his touch when he let his hands drop back to his sides. 

“I’ll need a day or two to write up our arrangement, and we’ll need some time to negotiate-”

Dean’s face must have puzzled, because Castiel stopped talking abruptly, giving him a concerned look.

“Please tell me I haven’t misinterpreted, Dean.”

“Wha- no!” Dean said quickly, panic rising at the even slightest indication that he might lose what he’s wanted for so long, just as it’s barely even begun. But somewhere along the way he must have missed something, because he honestly had no idea what Castiel was talking about.

“Just, uh,” Dean stammered, hands twitching to reach out and touch Castiel, suddenly afraid he’d never get another chance. “I’m...not, uh...arrangement? What...what exactly are we negotiating?”

Castiel opened his mouth, then closed it, his eyes growing more worrisome by the second. Dean wrung his hands, desperately searching Castiel’s face, his heart thumping in his chest. It would be his luck that he’s finally laid out his most vulnerable part of himself, even allowed himself to believe he could feel safe with someone enough to do so, only to have it ripped away because he was too damn stupid to understand what he had. 

“I…” Castiel’s voice croaked and he cleared his throat, trying again. “I had thought we were discussing me...becoming your Dom.”

Dean blinked, a blush rising to his cheeks, and he said the first thing that came to mind: “You wanna  _ Fifty Shades of Grey _ me?”

That was apparently the absolutely wrong thing to say because Castiel visibly tensed, his jaw clicking and his eyes growing dark with barely suppressed rage.

“ _ No _ ,” he spat. “ _ Damn _ those movies! They give young minds like yours the wrong idea-” Castiel suddenly stopped and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I see we were...on a different page. I apologize. Perhaps we should just forget-”

“No! No, I...I don’t want to  _ forget  _ it, I...I just,” Dean licked his lips quickly and frowned. “I just don’t know...anything...about-”

“I’m sorry, I just assumed…” Castiel paused, sighing and rubbing at his eyes, then pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve noticed, over the course of the last few years, that you have a tendency to display what someone like me would define as ‘submissive behavior’. And before you let your mind immediately go  _ there _ , I should tell you that that doesn’t mean inherently sexual behavior. And similarly, a dominant/submissive relationship doesn’t need to be, either. So there were things I noticed, such as your relationship with your family, coupled with the things you’ve told me about feeling like you  _ need  _ to do this or that for them, how your younger brother is ‘ _ your responsibility _ ’. Ultimately it comes down to trust, and being able to be what the other one needs. I have a need for control in my life, for example. Contrarily, you’re looking for someone who can shoulder the control that’s been forced on you. My job would be to help you with that...physically, emotionally. Whatever you need.”

“And that…” Dean paused, swallowing hard, “that requires a written contract?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…” Dean said slowly as he tried to make sense of it all, his eyebrows crinkling in thought. He went over Castiel’s words again, pausing at the ‘tendency for submissive behavior’ then deciding he would circle back to that later. What Castiel was saying  _ sounded _ like what Dean was looking for, though he’d never thought of it as any kind of dominant/submissive type of...thing. Well, he had never  _ defined _ it like that anyway. Certainly not to the extent of contracts and negotiating terms. He’d never thought of himself as someone who’d want to participate in that kind of relationship, but as of his previous revelation, he was discovering he didn’t know much about himself at all. For all he knew, this  _ was _ what he was looking for and just didn’t have the right vocabulary to vocalize it to someone, or even himself.

And, admittedly, he knew almost nothing about the BDSM lifestyle aside from kinky sex and all that  _ Fifty Shades of Grey _ crap that Lisa wouldn’t stop gushing over for the longest time. Which, judging from Castiel’s reaction, had it all wrong, anyway.

Aside from all that, however, there was only one thing that Dean has hung up on. He glanced up at Cas and chewed his lip, still wringing his hands.

“You...you said  _ job _ ,” Dean murmured. “I, uh, I don’t want this to be a job for you. If it’s not something you  _ want _ , then-”

“I’m sorry, Dean, you misunderstand me,” Castiel said gently, reaching up to grip Dean’s chin, almost smiling when the boy immediately leans into the touch. “I simply meant that as your Dom, there are certain...expectations of me. Things you need from me that, if I were to be your Dom- if you were to trust me with this- then it would be my job to meet those needs. Just as, if you were to be my Sub-”

Dean blushed heavily at this. 

“-then there would be expectations from you, things I need from you, that would be your job to satisfy. It’s an exchange of power, Dean. You would give up control to me, and in return I would promise to take care of you in the way that you need. But it’s…” Castiel frowned and shook his head. “It’s not a job in such a literal sense. I very much... _ want _ this. Otherwise I would not have offered it.”

He released Dean's chin, which blessedly gave Dean the opportunity to  _ breathe _ again, but he still stared intently for awhile until Dean realized he was waiting on him to respond. 

“So… when can we…” he looked away, face heating again, “um…”

“There are very basic rules to begin with, of which I already have drawn up. But each of these relationships is different. Ours will need to be specifically curated to fit both your needs and mine. We need to establish hard limits, or rather… anything that makes you so uncomfortable you don't want any part in, and I do the same. Everything will be meticulously discussed and written out, so there can be no confusion. But most importantly, in order for this to work, you have to trust me. Implicitly.”

“That's…” Dean rubbed at his chest, looking up at Castiel nervously, “gonna be difficult.”

“I understand.”

Dean looked down. “But what if I… can't-”

Castiel took Dean's face between his hands again, gently tilting his head up until he was looking in his eyes again, which were soft, welcoming, and understanding. 

“This will only work, will only truly serve the purpose it's meant to, if you trust me, Dean. You have to be able to let go. You have to be able to let me shoulder your baggage for you.”

“I’ve never done that before,” Dean said under his breath, as if afraid to let Castiel hear it. “I  _ want _ to let go, but I’ve- I’ve never-”

“I know,” Castiel shushed him gently, stroking his thumbs over Dean’s cheeks. “But you’ve come this far, trusting me enough to confide in me. I know you can do this and I believe I can be the one to give you what you need. I realize we haven’t interacted much and that’s mostly my doing, but I’ve always found you very...interesting. And I care for your well-being.”

Dean closed his eyes and thought he would never get another chance,  _ knew _ he wouldn’t. He’s already trusted Castiel with so much already for reasons he couldn’t explain, that didn’t even make sense. He didn’t know what it was exactly about Castiel that made him feel safe, but he did know Castiel was the first to do so. He’d never felt this comfortable with anyone else, had never been tempted to let all his walls down and bare himself, make himself vulnerable.

“Okay,” Dean finally murmured. “Okay, I want to do this. I trust you.”

“It’s more than just saying it, Dean. You have to actually feel it. You have to believe it.”

“I  _ do _ -”

“You will,” Castiel nodded, straightening again and letting his hands fall to Dean’s shoulders. “But you don’t. Not yet. And that’s okay. We’ll get there.”

Dean chewed his lip and shifted on his feet. “So should we...talk, then?”

A smile spread slowly across Castiel’s face and he gave Dean’s shoulder a squeeze before dropping his hands to his sides. “It’s getting late, and you have school tomorrow. You should sleep. We can do this tomorrow, after you figure out whatever is wrong with my car.”

“But-”

“Dean,” Castiel said firmly, “I’m pleased that you’re so eager to get started, but right now I need you to go into that bedroom-” he pointed past him at the guest room, “-and sleep. It looks like I’ll be home tomorrow anyway, so I’ll ready the paperwork we’ll need, and we can discuss everything then.”

Dean wanted to pout and beg to at least be allowed to sleep in Castiel’s bed with him, just so he can feel that comforting presence, but the look in those blue eyes told him that was no room for argument here. He sighed-a bit dramatically, causing a slight eye roll from Castiel- and turned, shuffling back to his temporary bedroom. He glanced back, got a raised brow in response, and huffed as he slipped inside and shut the door. 

\----

Dean woke and had no idea where he was. He sat up in a very comfortable bed with seriously soft sheets, and looked around the clean but plain-looking room. His head was a little fuzzy, but the memories from the night before came rushing back and his heart skipped several beats when he realized it had all been real.

Not only did he semi-confess his obsession with Castiel, he was potentially entering into a very unorthodox relationship with the man. A man who is over twice his age-and looks  _ damn _ good- and, oh yeah, is his dad’s boss. Nothing could go wrong.

“Fuck it,” Dean huffed as he crawled out of bed, scrubbing at his mussed hair. “For once you’re gonna be selfish and do something for  _ you. _ ”

He got up, scratching at his belly, and padded down the hallway into the bathroom while absolutely  _ not _ thinking about the last time he was in there. He did what he could to wash up, since he didn’t have any spare clothes, then poked his head back out into the hallway. Castiel’s bedroom door was open, but the light was off, so Dean grabbed his shoes and headed downstairs to the smell of bacon and eggs. He almost tripped over himself, unable to remember the last time someone cooked for him, and practically ran into the kitchen- smacking right into Castiel’s solid back.

“Should be more careful,” Castiel said evenly as he turned around, holding a thankfully empty coffee pot. 

“Uh, s-sorry,” Dean mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he sidestepped over to the island and sat down on one of the stools.   
“How would you like your eggs?” Castiel asked without missing a beat, so casual that Dean wondered if he _hadn’t_ imagined everything from the night before, or if perhaps he’d had more to drink than he thought he did. 

“Scrambled is fine.”

Castiel hummed and nodded, turning back to the stove and cracking a few eggs in the pan. He was dressed only slightly more casual than normal, in a pair of dark blue chinos that matched his eyes and a cream pullover sweater. Dean silently admired the way the clothes hugged his trim figure while Castiel busied himself with breakfast, all too soon turning to present him with a heaping plate of bacon and scrambled eggs.

“I trust you remember what we discussed last night,” Castiel began as he poured himself a cup of coffee and added a small dash of cream. He turned back to Dean and leaned against the counter, looking over the rim of his cup at him as he took a sip.

“Yes...sir?”

Castiel paused and raised an eyebrow, then frowned slightly, shaking his head. “No...no, I don’t like that on you. We’ll have to find something else more suitable.”

Dean blinked, fork halfway raised to his mouth, and thought just how weird this all was. Here he was, eating eggs that he didn’t cook himself, discussing what he could call Castiel when they...they...do whatever it was they were going to do. Not a bad morning, actually. He’s had worse.

He chewed his eggs and twirled his fork. “Master?”

Castiel made a face and once again shook his head. “No, no. That doesn’t feel right, either.”

“Hm,” Dean bit into his bacon, legs swinging, and he was struck by how relaxed he felt, considering the situation. It may have something to do with not wrestling Sam out of bed, or not having to settle for cold eggs and no bacon after feeding his brother and dad. It was quiet and he had Castiel’s full attention. He could definitely get used to this.

“Well,” Castiel shrugged. “It will come to us. Our...names for each other will be intimate and usually isn’t decided until we’ve gotten more comfortable with each other.”

“So, in the heat of the moment?”

Castiel tilted his head. “So to speak, yes. Whatever feels right.”

Dean nodded and finished up his eggs while Castiel sipped his coffee in easy silence. He picked up his last piece of bacon and bit into it, gesturing toward Castiel as he spoke.

“So, what are you gonna do today, if you’re taking the day off?”

Castiel shrugged. “Contemplate.”

“Contemplate?”

“Yes.”

Dean waited for his explanation, and as usual, one never came. He chewed slowly and swallowed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Contemplate...what?”

“You,” Castiel raised a brow, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “As I said, each of these relationships is different. I’m going to consider what things I could be doing to help you, personally.” He tilted his mug toward Dean with a shrug. “Research, if you will.”

“About me.”

Castiel quirked a smile as he took another sip of his coffee. “I already know more about you than you may think, Dean. I’m thinking more in terms of...emotional support and physicality.”

“Physicality,” Dean repeated, wiping his greasy hand on his jeans, then pausing when he remembered he was in the presence of a guy with actual manners. Castiel didn’t seem to mind it, simply nodding at Dean.

“Like...um, sex?” Dean asked bluntly, because this situation sort of needed bluntness. Evident from last night, he could very easily misinterpret Castiel’s words. Frustrating, honestly, since Castiel kept insisting he was intelligent. 

Castiel tilted his head at him and set his mug down, crossing his arms over his chest. “As I said before, these relationships can be sexual or not. In the interest of avoiding further confusion like last night, I will tell you that while I do desire a sexual relationship with you, it is not required. It’s what you are comfortable with.”

“So...then, if I want that, too?” Dean said, sliding off his stool and taking a step toward him.

Castiel looked at him steadily, the slight dilation of his pupils the only indication that Dean’s words had any effect on him.

“Then that’s something we can explore,” Castiel said, the low timbre of his voice making Dean shiver. He watched Dean intently as he took another step toward him, eyes downcast as he got closer, until they were practically breathing the same air. 

Dean leaned in close and Castiel's eyes never left his, his breathing slow and steady. 

“You should be going,” Castiel said finally, halting Dean's movement when he was close enough that he could easily press their lips together. “School.”

Dean blinked, breaking his momentary trance, and nodded slightly. “Y- yeah. Yeah.” He cleared his throat and took a few steps backward. “I'll, uh… I'll call you when I know something about your car.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and nodded. “We'll also need to come up with an excuse for your father as to why you're spending so much time here.”

“Can't I just… tell him I'm somewhere else?”

“No.” Castiel finally seemed to relax a little, gripping the counter behind him. “I can't have you lying to him about your whereabouts. If something were to happen to you, he needs to know where you are.”

“But-”

“I won't budge on this,” Castiel said firmly. “We'll figure something out, but we  _ will _ be completely forthcoming with your location.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue but Castiel's raised eyebrow had him closing it again, and he nodded instead. “Okay. Well then I'll… see you later.”

He turned on his heel and left before waiting for Castiel's answer. 

\----

“Where've you been?” Sam asked when he got in the car, and Dean was relieved to see that his lip was only slightly swollen, now cleaned to the point you could barely tell it was split. 

“Sam, I'm sorry,” Dean said in the way of an answer, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as he pulled out of the driveway. “Last night, I-”

“There's no need, Dean. I was being a total dick. I deserved that and… probably more, honestly.”

Dean sat in silence for a moment, tapping his finger on the wheel. “Well,” he finally said. “I’m not gonna argue with that.”

Sam huffed and rubbed at his eyes. Dean glanced at him and frowned, watching Sam stifle a wide yawn. 

“You get enough sleep?” he asked, glancing back at the road.

“Ah...turns out I can’t hold my liquor too well,” Sam admitted, grimacing slightly. “I was sick all night.”

“Serves you right,” Dean muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam sighed. “Luckily dad bought the stomach bug excuse.” He paused, looking over at Dean and biting his lip, hands fidgeting in his lap. “You...you aren’t gonna tell-”

“No,” Dean sighed, briefly tightening his hand on the wheel. “I’m not gonna tell dad, but I swear to God, Sam, you ever pull that shit again and dad is going to be the least of your worries. Who do you think he’ll blame if he found you drunk like that, huh? I even smell a drop on you next time-”

“I know, I know,” Sam hunched his shoulders, looking appropriately abashed. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t even know why I did it. Jess kept telling me that I shouldn’t.”

“Smart kid.”

When they parked in the school’s lot, Sam turned to Dean and frowned worriedly. “Seriously, Dean, where were you? I was worried and dad asked for you.”

“What did you tell him?” Dean asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

Sam pressed his lips together and shrugged, tugging on the string of his hoodie. “Just said you stayed at a friend’s.”

“Good,” Dean sighed and climbed out of the car,  Sam following close behind. “And don’t worry. I was fine. Just slept off my anger so I didn’t punch you again.”

“I really am sorry, Dean.”

“I know, kid,” Dean nudged Sam’ shoulder with a fist and managed a little smile. “Listen, don’t take too long after school, okay? I gotta get home and work on Castiel’s car before it gets dark.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam grumbled, squinting as they entered the front doors. “When did it get so bright in here?”

Dean laughed. “Welcome to a hangover, little brother.”

\----

The day seemed to drag on especially slow, as they often did anytime there was something better to look forward to, and Dean decided that, no matter how awkward the conversation may be, talking to Castiel was something  _ much  _ better. The final bell rang at a quarter to three and Dean left straight out the double doors instead of meeting up with Benny as he often did, finding Sam already waiting for him by the Impala. Dean slid inside the driver’s side and leaned over to unlock Sam’s door, starting the car as Sam threw his backpack in the backseat and buckled his seatbelt. 

“I also meant to apologize for the things I said last night, Dean, I didn’t mean them-”

“Yeah, you did,” Dean grunted as he backed out of the parking space and put her in drive. “But it’s okay. You were right. I  _ do  _ use you as an excuse to keep me from trying anything for myself...to keep me from failing.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and pulled out onto the main road. “And I think...I think I needed to hear that. And comin’ from you...makes more of a difference than it would’ve comin’ from anyone else.”

Sam shook his head. “I still shouldn’t have said it. You didn’t deserve that. And I owe you for everything I have. I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”

Dean tongued his lip and looked over at Sam briefly, then back at the road. “Shaddup, Sammy.”

Sam huffed a laugh but they spent the rest of the ride in virtual silence, with only the drone of the radio in the background. They pulled up to the house to find John’s truck gone, unsurprisingly, since he usually wasn’t home from work until around 5. Sam went inside to start on his homework and Dean popped the hood to the Hybrid again, and half an hour later he was on the way to the auto parts store for a new fuse.

By the time John got home Dean was finishing up, wiping the minimal dust and oil from his hands onto an old towel.

“Was wonderin’ why his car was still here,” John said as he slammed the door to his truck and walked over. “Figure out the problem?”

“Just a blown fuse,” Dean answered, slamming the hood. “Gonna drive her back to Castiel’s, have him give me a ride back home.”

John smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for doin’ this, son. Makin’ your old man proud.”

Dean shrugged and looked toward the house. “Gonna go jump in the shower real quick. There’s leftovers in the fridge for dinner, if y’all don’t mind just havin’ those, and I can make some spaghetti or somethin’ tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good to me.” John gave Castiel’s car one last look before he nodded. “You make sure you’re polite to him when you drop this off. And thank him for giving you a ride.”

Dean hoped John didn’t see his blush as he muttered a ‘yes, sir’ then quickly disappeared inside the house. He took a quick shower, scrubbing away the grease and sweat, then toweled off and found a fresh pair of jeans and a clean shirt to pull on. He poked his head into Sam’s room, told him he’d be back later tonight, and was on the road in minutes. 

Castiel’s car was nice and handled well, but nothing compared to his Baby. Especially in the looks department. The Impala’s design was a classic; timeless. The cars today all looked the same to Dean. He’d told this to Sam once and the little shit said he’d sounded like an old man trapped in a teen’s body.

Dean pulled into Castiel’s driveway and parked. He let his hands fall from the wheel and took several deep breaths, assessing what he felt at that very moment with no one else around to otherwise distract or influence him. He stared at the front door, absently running his palm up and down his thigh. He could still get out of this if he wanted to. They haven’t officially begun anything yet and Castiel is an understanding guy. If Dean wanted to walk away, he’d be okay with that.

Dean didn’t want to walk away, though. It was completely new territory for him and, admittedly, made him a little anxious. But none of those factors had him running for hills and he was curious if Castiel was right, and this really was what Dean needed. Because if it is, and he walked away from it, Dean would never forgive himself. Something had to change or incidents like last night with Sam would happen more and more frequently. He didn’t want to pull away from his family, he just needed to have a time and space for himself.

Dean rolled his shoulders and climbed out of the car. He jogged up to the door, glanced up at the camera, then knocked.

“You know you don’t have to knock,” Castiel said as he opened the door, quirking a smile. “You can just come on in.”

“Well, I- uh. Okay.” 

Castiel nodded and shoved one hand in his pocket. “How are you, Dean?”

“‘M fine,” Dean answered, glancing to his immediate left, where the sitting room they’d been in the night before was looking really inviting. The gas logs were already burning and a small table was set up that wasn’t normally there, set with a plate and a glass with a can of soda sitting next to it. Dean took a step toward the room and paused, looking questioningly back at Castiel. 

“Oh, yes,” Castiel said, shaking his head slightly and extending his hand briefly to the room, “I assumed you’d be hungry...and I’d already set up for us in here, so…” he took a breath and looked over at Dean, who gave him a reassuring smile. “I hope you like meatloaf...?”

“Yeah, meatloaf’s good,” Dean said somewhat awkwardly, taking a few steps toward the room. “Okay if I-?”

“Yeah! Yes, of course,” Castiel said quickly, following him in and going to the bar as Dean sat down at the table. He didn’t make a drink for Dean this time, which Dean supposed was purposeful, as everything Castiel did seemed to be. He didn’t really care though, considering he had a hot meal waiting for him that he didn’t have to cook himself. 

Castiel walked back around to the sofa with his drink and sat, crossing his ankle over his knee like he often did, looking at Dean over the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

Dean only felt weird about eating a dinner not made by him for a few minutes and tucked in enthusiastically, making a mental note to tell Castiel that he was a good cook. He practically licked the plate clean with Castiel watching him silently the whole time. That probably should have been strange, but for Castiel strange was normal and Dean was quickly figuring that out. 

“Do you want seconds?” Castiel asked, smiling behind his glass.

“Uh, no...no I’m good…” Dean wiped at his mouth with a napkin and took a long gulp from his drink.

Castiel hummed. “Are you sure?”

Dean hesitated, licking his lips, then shrugged and looked away. “Well...yeah, maybe later,” he admitted. 

This seemed to be the right answer as Castiel nodded and stood, gathering the plate and utensils. 

“I can wash-” Dean started, but Castiel waved him off.

“No need,” he said with an easy shrug. “It will be taken care of.” 

Castiel disappeared briefly before returning and refilling his glass. “So, Dean,” he started, taking his seat. “Are you ready to discuss some things?”

“Yeah- yes,” Dean said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He cleared his throat and nodded, and Castiel half smiled and leaned forward, gathering some papers and a pen from the coffee table. He sat back and looked over at Dean again, then patted the space next to him.

“Come. Make yourself comfortable.”

Dean obeyed, sitting down on the sofa and turning to face Castiel, leaning back against the armrest and pulling a leg up with him. 

“Alright,” Castiel leaned forward and grabbed the black-framed glasses from the coffee table, putting them on as he looked down at the papers in his hand. He pulled the cap off his pen with his teeth and tossed it onto the table, writing a few things on one of the papers, then turned them to show Dean the top page. “Look over this, make sure all this information is correct, including dates, spelling, etcetera.”

Dean took the paper and looked it over, finding his personal information, including but not limited to his full name, date of birth, home address, and his dad’s information, marked ‘emergency contact’. His eyes widened slightly and he looked up at Castiel, who just waved a dismissive hand.

“Just a precaution,” he assured him. “In case anything happens and you have to go to a hospital, I have this information here. I’m not...I’m not going to hurt you, Dean.”

Dean relaxed somewhat and put on a teasing smile. “So no whips and hot wax, huh?”

Castiel shrugged as he leafed through the small stack of papers. “Unless that’s something you’re interested in, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. One thing at a time.”

Dean waited for the chuckle and when none came he realized Castiel was being completely serious. He swallowed and thought he might be getting over his head here, but he had Castiel to guide him through. Everything would be fine.

“You’re nervous.”

Dean blinked and looked up to see those blue eyes watching him intently. He thought about denying it, but Castiel would see right through the lie and probably not appreciate him being dishonest. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, wringing his hands in his lap. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, Dean,” Castiel said gently, reaching out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t nervous. Don’t worry. Nothing will happen that you don’t want.”

Dean nodded, the warmth of Castiel’s hand welcoming and grounding.

“Now, I want you to go through this list here,” Castiel handed him another paper, “and read over each of those carefully. There are three options for each listing and it’s important you’re completely honest. The ‘hard no’ means we will never participate in the action, ‘maybe’ means it’s up for discussion, and of course ‘yes’ means you agree and are willing and able to perform the action or have it performed on you. If you need something explained, just ask.”

Dean swallowed and nodded again, taking the paper and pen that Castiel offered him. Castiel rifled through some other paperwork while Dean went through the list, marking his answers for things like bondage, breath control, collaring, impact play, and so on. Dean was embarrassed to admit that he’d never heard of most of the stuff, so he marked what he did know and sat and stared at the others, as if the answers would magically come to him.

“Let me see,” Castiel said gently after a while, and Dean jumped, not having been aware that he was watching him. He handed the paper back a bit sheepishly, only about half of the things listed marked at all.

Castiel hummed. “Okay, Kinbaku is a form of Japanese binding. I’ve only ever used this once before on a Submissive, but they did quite enjoy it. We can look more into it if you think it may be something you’re interested in.”

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded, wanting desperately to ask more about Castiel’s past submissives but deciding that was a conversation for another time. Although, it was probably something they should discuss beforehand, since Castiel seemed to be all for total honesty, anyway.

“Knife play is...exactly how it sounds. No actual penetration, but more of…” he frowned and tilted his head. “It’s more about sensation than anything, combined with fear and anticipation.”

Dean took a shuddering breath. “And have you done that before?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve...done all of this?” Dean asked, eyeing the list with something between fear and excitement. 

Castiel nodded seriously. “Yes, I am well-practiced in all of it. I've also had them done to me, so I would be able to fully understand and properly explain the sensations, which also gives me an idea of specific aftercare for each action.” 

Dean chewed on his lip as he considered the list again. “Aftercare?” 

Castiel nodded again, watching Dean carefully, with the usual intensity that made his hair stand up on end. “Yes, it’s something like a cool down. A Sub makes himself or herself very vulnerable in a scene, sometimes more so in a particularly intense scene, and it can be physically as well as psychologically taxing. Part of my job is to make sure you recover from any scene we do, see to your emotional or physical needs, and assure you that what was done is not something to feel guilty or conflicted about- a common feeling with many Subs, since what we do is not exactly orthodox or looked on favorably by most of society.” 

Dean nodded slowly, tonguing his cheek thoughtfully. “A cool down…” he murmured. 

“Yes,” Castiel smiled. “Admittedly it’s a bit hard to explain. You’ll see what I mean after our first scene. Then it will make more sense.” 

“And this is done after every scene?” 

Castiel nodded and took a sip of his drink. “Yes, if you have a good Dom. Which you will, so there’s nothing to worry about.” 

Dean gave him a small smile back and frowned down at the paper again. They spent the next half hour or so going over the intricacies of each one of the actions, Castiel patiently explaining each and every one in great detail so Dean could make an informed decision. When he was done, Castiel took that paper and cycled it into the others, pulling out another sheet.

“This one is more basic. First of all, you definitely do want a sexual relationship, yes? I only ask again because I want to be absolutely sure before-”

“Yes,” Dean said, perhaps a little quicker than necessary, judging by Castiel’s smirk. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Castiel said nothing but marked something down on the paper, not looking up when he asked the next question. “Are you sexually active?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, wringing his hands in his lap. “You mean recently, or-?”

“In general.”

“Oh. Then, yes.”

Castiel nodded and scribbled something else down on the paper. “Have you been tested for STDs since your last sexual encounter?”

“This...feels like a doctor’s appointment or something.”

Castiel’s mouth quirked in the corner and he looked up at Dean, pulling off his glasses and tossing them onto the coffee table. “I trust you understand why I ask.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve been tested. I’m clean.”

“I’ll need paperwork, if you don’t mind. And I can make sure you get a copy of mine.” 

“Sure.”

“Last is my personal rules. I’ll also be providing you with blank sheets so you can write down any personal rules you may have. These rules are specific to each individual Sub or Dom, and in no way necessarily reflect on the community as a whole. They’re a way to personalize your experience, cultivate it into something that makes you feel safe and comfortable. The mantra that I stress to you from the beginning when entering into BDSM, is that a proper BDSM relationship is safe, sane, and consensual. Without all three of those things, it is considered an unhealthy relationship. If it isn’t those three things, it means I’m not doing my job. Means I’m not being a good Dom.” He looked at Dean intently and nodded questioningly, and Dean nodded back.

“Okay. As for my personal rules...rule number one: As my Sub, I expect you to refrain from sexual relationships outside of ours as long as we are involved. If you wish to engage in sexual activity with anyone outside of this relationship, I expect you to come to me with that information so we may amend our agreement, or if a mutual agreement cannot be reached, terminate the agreement altogether. Understood?”

Dean nods. “Yes.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and looked back down at his paper for a moment, then leaned forward to grab his glasses again, sliding them onto his nose. “Rule number one, subcategory A: I will not be involved in a sexual relationship outside of ours, whether contracted or not, for as long as our agreement states. If I am to take on a nonsexual client, I am to consult you beforehand and obtain your permission.”

He glanced up at Dean, and Dean nodded again, not sure of what else he was supposed to do or say now. Castiel continued:

“Rule number two: Names chosen are intimate and are to be used as such. Pet names are not to be used outside of a scene unless the Sub or Dom are hinting at play, since they often are taken as cues.” He looked back up at Dean again. “This is especially important for us, since your father will be unaware of our arrangement. I am not the kind of Dom to have his Sub in full play all the time. You’ll live a very much normal life, outside of the playroom.” He waited a beat, licked his lips, and continued. “Number three: My bedroom is strictly off limits unless I otherwise direct you. My bedroom is my personal, intimate space. Anywhere else in the house is open to you, whenever you want, save for the bedroom. While this relationship will be sexual and highly emotional, it is not to be confused with the traditional romantic relationship. You are my Sub and I am your Dom, and I will love you as such and expect the same in return.”

Dean frowned, not entirely sure he understood the difference, but he nodded. It’s not like he planned on falling in love with someone he couldn’t logically have, anyway. “Okay.”

“Rule number three, subcategory A: kissing on the lips is not allowed. This is another action that is considered intimate in the romantic sense and is not to be implemented.”

And Dean had almost kissed him that morning in the kitchen. No wonder Castiel had been in such a hurry for him to leave. Dean flushed and tried not to look disappointed when he nodded slowly.

“Number four: if I request something of you and you are unsure of what I am asking, or you’re not ready, or too afraid to try it, I expect you to let me know immediately, before we begin.”

Okay, easy enough.

“Five: you are not to masturbate unless I explicitly ask you to do so, or have told you that it’s okay.”

Dean began to wonder if he was sweating because of the gas logs or the conversation.

“I may have a scene planned for you in which it is vital that you have not ejaculated for a set amount of time. Scenes are thoughtfully planned and I do not like when plans change. Disobeying this rule  _ will _ result in punishment.” He looked up at Dean sincerely, something wicked twinkling in his eye. “And I can be very creative when it comes to punishment.”

“Number six,” Castiel continued, the gleam in his eyes gone just as fast as it came, leaving Dean reeling and trying to keep up. “Since scenes can become very involved physically, I expect you to keep a healthy diet, exercise regularly, and keep up with strict hygiene standards. In other words, eat right and take showers. Go for a jog or something every once in awhile.” 

Dean nodded, though healthy eating would be a challenge. Healthy food meant more money, which he didn’t exactly have. 

“Number seven: play is intricate and requires time, so I would prefer to keep us on a schedule. I understand you have school, a job, and your brother, so we will work around these things. Outside of our scheduled times, I would prefer you don’t drop by unexpectedly unless it’s an emergency and you are in need of a safe space.” 

Dean bit his lip and nodded, now feeling even worse for showing up at midnight on Castiel’s doorstep. 

Castiel hummed and sat back, looking over the paper quickly before nodding to himself. “That’s it for the basic rules. Scene rules will vary and we can go over those in better detail once we’ve established what your limits are. As I said before, you are welcome to create your own rules for me, but I don’t expect you to come up with them now. Think it over and give them to me next time we see each other. Now,” he shuffled the papers again, then handed them back to Dean along with the pen. “I need you to initial my rules, to ensure that they’ve been read and explained, the page that includes the types of play, and sign this page, which is essentially a nondisclosure agreement that I encourage you to read over.”

Dean did as he was told, taking the time to read the agreement while Castiel sipped his drink and stared ahead at the fire. The agreement only stated specifically that he wasn’t to clue John in on them having a relationship of any kind, or disclose the exact  _ nature _ of the relationship to anyone. Dean decided it would just be easier to keep it from everyone altogether. He scrawled his signature on the last page and handed the packet back to Castiel, who downed the rest of his drink and sat his glass down before taking them and meticulously checking over each page.

“I’ll make copies of these, and give you your own,” he said finally, then neatly stacked them before sitting them on the side table. He turned to face Dean, also pulling one leg up onto the sofa, holding his hands palm up on the sofa wordlessly until Dean laid his hands in Castiel’s large ones. Castiel tightened his fingers around them and looked at him solemnly. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Probably about a hundred,” Dean snorted and weakly shrugged his shoulders. “Just can’t think of them right now.” 

Castiel hummed and skimmed his fingers over Dean’s wrist. “Try to. It’s important I clarify things you don’t understand.” 

Dean paused for a beat then tilted his head, swallowing. “Do you have any other subs?”

“Not currently, no.” 

Dean glanced up at him. “Will you?”

Castiel pondered this for a moment before speaking. “Perhaps. It’s not abnormal for an experienced Dom like myself to have more than one Sub, but generally I tend to focus on only one. I prefer that, actually, so that my Sub can have my full attention.” 

Dean nodded, feeling a little bit better about that. He knew he couldn’t have Castiel in any normal sense, so being his only Sub was the next best thing. “How long have you been doing this BDSM stuff?”

Castiel quirked a smile and pressed a thumb into Dean’s pulse point, no doubt feeling it quicken under his touch. “About 25 years, give or take. I started dabbling when I was 23, at the advice from a friend when my life started to become...hectic. I experimented with both roles before I quickly discovered I was much more a Dom than I was a Sub. I made it a part of my lifestyle permanently around age 27.” 

Dean nodded and looked down at his lap, daring to ask the question he’s been wondering for years now. “When you first met me,” he murmured, “did...I mean, did you want-“ 

“No,” Castiel said firmly, squeezing Dean’s hands. “While I found you to be an interesting boy, and certainly one with the potential to grow into an attractive man, I didn’t want you in that way. Er, no offense.” 

Dean was equal parts relieved and disappointed, but he supposed the fact that Castiel found him “interesting” was enough of a consolation.

“Have you ever...had one as young as me before?”

“Once, years ago. She was my longest Sub...for about six years.”

“Six years?” Dean asked incredulously, and Castiel nodded.

“Some need me longer than others,” he said simply. “Most people don’t want this for their entire lives. They want commitment, families...what they would consider a normal lifestyle.”

Dean chewed his lip. “You don’t consider that a normal lifestyle?”

He shrugged again and shook his head with a small smile. “This _ is _ my normal.”

Dean nodded and looked around the room, at the lack of personal touch that still enveloped the place despite him having lived there for years, nothing out of place. “Don’t you get...lonely here, by yourself?”

Castiel stared at him a long time, his jaw set, before his eyelids fluttered slightly and he blinked a few times. “No.”

Dean decided not to push that and cleared his throat instead, looking Castiel in the eye. “So when can we start?”

Castiel chuckled and finally let go of his hands to sit back, clasping his hands together in his lap. “I love how enthusiastic you are. It usually makes for a particularly responsive Submissive.”

Dean blushed and looked down, wringing his hands together again.

“Well, I’m a stickler for the paperwork. I’ll need the record of your latest testing on file and we’ll need to go over your rules first. Additionally, if there has been anything you’ve done sexually out of the norm, or anything that you were uncomfortable with as it happened, I’d like to know about that as well.” He paused, sighing, and Dean looked back up at him. “But we can start very soon, I think, if everything seems to go well.”

Dean sighed and sat back, taking in all the new information. His twisting gut told him he was nervous, but it was the kind of nervous you get when you inch your way up a roller coaster. Exciting, thrilling, a little scary- but definitely something he wanted. He had so much to learn about this lifestyle that he could never know what questions to ask. Dean would have to do his own research in his spare time and write down questions as he thought of them. 

There was one that was still on his mind, though. 

“Scenes,” he said, turning back to Castiel, who had been watching him curiously. “What does that entail, exactly? What are we going to do?” 

Castiel rubbed at his stubble and hummed quietly to himself. “Well,” he finally said, “scenes can be very different things. Sexual or nonsexual. For instance, if we were to be technical, you eating for me while I watched could be considered a scene. Albeit, a very tame one.” 

That got a raised eyebrow. “Really?”

Castiel nodded with a small smile. “Yes. Considering what your needs are, primary one being the need to be taken care of in every sense of the phrase- feeding you is a basic, caring action. You want the weight of this adulthood that’s been impressed upon you off your shoulders, and that includes cooking for yourself and others. Therefore, as your Dom, I can take over and feed you. It can even go further than what we did today with hand-feeding, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves.” 

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I feel very...naive.”

“Well,” Castiel said slowly, “you are.”

“What?”

“You  _ are  _ naive.”

Dean’s face fell, his forehead wrinkling with his frown.

Castiel chuckled, straightening and waving Dean closer. Dean slid over without even thinking twice, and suddenly he was trapped in that gaze again, Castiel’s hands on his face like they were the night before. “Try not to see that as a negative thing, Dean. You’re young and you’ve never been properly educated on any of this. It’s not something you just  _ know _ . And in fact, your naivety is both attractive and exciting to me. It means I get to teach you, and watch you learn. I’ll see you pick up new things, anticipate things...I’ll see the change in your body’s response to different scenes and types of play.” He brushed his thumbs across Dean’s cheekbones. “So no, naivety is not a bad thing. It’s one I’m quite aroused by, actually.”

Dean could feel his cheeks heat but couldn’t move, couldn’t look anywhere but into Castiel’s eyes. If Castiel noticed he said nothing, only slowly leaned forward, moving up when he got close enough that Dean could smell the brandy on his breath, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“What we  _ can  _ do tonight,” Castiel continued, leaning back again and releasing Dean, only one hand dropping to his shoulder, “is get you acquainted with the den. If you’re interested.”

“The den…” Dean tested it on his tongue, his heart speeding up.

“Yes, it’s where we will do most of our scenes,” Castiel nodded and stood, Dean following his example. “Some of the softer scenes can be done outside the den, but most of our time will be spent in there. I would like you to see it so that I can make any changes necessary to make you more comfortable.”

Dean licked his lips and nodded, following Castiel out of the small living room and up the stairs. They passed Castiel’s closed up bedroom and entered through a door beside it, one Dean never got a chance to poke his nose in at that party. He’d been too busy snooping inside Castiel’s room. Castiel switched on the lights and stepped aside to allow Dean full view. Dean stepped through the doorway and stifled a gasp, his gut immediately clenching and his arousal that was always simmering below the surface when he was around Castiel coming to a boil.

First impression was clean, very spacious, with everything in a certain spot that Dean was sure Castiel picked out carefully. There was furniture that Dean had no name for, but was sure to know soon. The room was done in a dark gray with soft, subtle blue lighting giving it a somewhat sterile but comfortable look. Dean immediately liked it and relaxed visibly. After a nod of encouragement from Castiel, he stepped in further and started to explore.

There were many things Dean wasn’t sure what their use was, but he did spot a nice queen sized bed in the middle of the back wall, a sort of center piece. It was also clad in gray and Dean bet if he reached out and touched the sheets they would be silky soft. After a closer inspection he could see the bed was equipped with metal hoops on each post, as well as more hoops dangling from the canopy. Dean swallowed and moved on, glancing over a giant X mounted on the wall, again equipped with hoops-no, scratch that. Cuffs. Leather cuffs. The X itself was padded and a deep black, the design simple and elegant. 

There was a wall with several mounted hook racks, an array of whips and paddles and floggers lining each one. There was a narrow, glass- enclosed shelf that held what appeared to be different types of handcuffs, gags, and masks on the same wall. Castiel walked slowly over to the bed and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the post, watching Dean make his way around the room. 

Dean's shoes scuffed across the wood floor as he crossed over to a piece of furniture that looked similar to a workout bench, and he ran his fingertips over the cool leather, turning back to Castiel with his eyebrows raised. 

“Spanking bench,” Castiel said by way of explanation, then tilted his head. “It's used for other purposes too, but… that's the technical use.”

Dean sucked in a breath and looked back at the chair, trying to imagine himself sprawled across it and failing. It all still seemed too surreal. 

“I don't…”

“If there's anything you don't feel comfortable with, we won't do it,” Castiel said simply. 

“No it's not that, it's just… still can't really believe stuff like this actually exists. That it's real.”

“Well, I'm very real,” Castiel quirked a smile. “And if this is what you really want, it's all about to be very real for you, too.”

_ That _ didn’t help his nerves at all. 

Dean rubbed his sweaty palms over his thighs and continued exploring, eyeballing a very large cage with apprehension and shaking his head.

“I don’t want to be put in this,” he stated bluntly.

“I figured not,” Castiel nodded with a slight frown. “I wasn’t going to make the cage a part of your care plan.”

Dean sighed, relieved, and moved on. He stopped at a black, padded leather chair-of sorts. The backing had loose belts that Dean guessed was meant to be restraints. There were padded legs that extended, also adorned with belts. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to see what the chair was meant for, tying a Sub down and spreading them out so that their most vulnerable parts were completely exposed. 

He licked his lips, swallowed around his dry throat, and continued on. There were other benches, each one seeming to have a specific use, all wood and padded black leather. There was also a grand chair that looked to be very comfortable, cushioned and plush, and seated against a corner on the left wall so that whoever sat could oversee almost the entire room. It reminded Dean of a throne, just more modern and less  _ Game of Thrones _ . 

“Dean,” came Castiel’s voice.

Dean blinked and looked up. Castiel watched him closely, still leaning casually against the bed, and tilted his head.

“Does anything in here make you uncomfortable? Uncomfortable enough that I need to remove it?”

Dean grazed his lip with his teeth and glanced around. Aside from the cage, and maybe the knives locked away in a display case, there was nothing that screamed ‘fuck no’. 

“I think…” Dean murmured, turning back to Castiel. “As long as you don’t use what I don’t want on me, then it’s fine. You don’t have to take anything out.”

“You're sure?”

Dean fidgeted, looking around the room. “Yes.”

Castiel nodded, letting his hands fall to his sides as he crossed over to the throne. He turned back to Dean, gently touching the arm. 

“Before a scene, when I ask you to come in here, you'll come in and undress, fold your clothes and leave them in a stack over there-” he pointed to a small table with two drawers at the entryway of a second door, different from the one they'd entered through, “- and kneel here, at the foot of the chair, on this rug. You'll hang your head and close your eyes, and clasp your hands behind your back. This is rest pose. When I enter, I'll instruct you from there.”

Without asking, Dean was able to interpret the purpose of that, because just the thought of it had his heart hammering in his chest with the anticipation of it all. He nodded.

“Show me.”

Dean dropped to his knees, taking a deep breath before he closed his eyes and hung his head, clasping his hands behind his back after a beat.

“Very good.” Castiel stroked the top of his head. “Next is inspection pose. When I ask you to resume inspection pose, I expect you to strip naked, present yourself on your hands and knees, knees spread apart, head up, eyes open.” He crossed over in front of Dean and held his chin, tapping once. Dean opened his eyes and met his gaze. 

“Show me.”

Dean scrambled into position, and Castiel walked around him, gently nudging his knees further apart, then laying a hand on Dean’s lower back and pushing up on his chest to pull him into a deeper arch.

“Perfect. More often than not, I’ll have you go from rest pose to inspection pose. There are other poses, but these are the two I tend to use the most often. Should I need to teach you others, I will.”

Dean looked innocently up at him and nodded again.

“After each scene, I'll lead you back through that door, and I’ll bathe you. The next time you're here, before our first encounter, the drawers in your room will be stocked with clothing for you to wear. Your room will also be furnished to your liking, so if there's anything you desire, you need only ask.”

“So I'll be…staying here?” Dean asked hopefully, taking Castiel’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. 

“From time to time, should you wish to,” Castiel answered. “The purpose is for you to feel wholly comfortable in my home, because as long as you're my Sub, it's very much meant to act as a home for you as well.”

While Dean would much rather use Castiel’s bed to sleep in, it was still touching he would go through the trouble of making Dean his own personal bedroom. Not only that, but make sure Dean felt at home here, to use as he wished. To relax and be himself, which was more than he could ever do in his actual home.

“How often can I stay here?” Dean asked, trying to hide his excitement and probably failing miserably.

Castiel smiled in amusement and chuckled. “As often as our schedules allow and without getting John too suspicious.”

Right. His dad. He was going to make things complicated, but it wasn’t anything Dean couldn’t work around. John didn’t care too much where Dean spent his time, even overnite. As long as Dean was responsible, John left him alone. And he wasn’t naive enough to think his son wasn’t sexually active, so nights spent away from home weren’t unheard of.

“Hopefully often enough,” Dean mumbled. He looked up at Castiel and stepped closer, biting his lip gently. “I like it here.”

“Good,” Castiel said softly. “But speaking of your father, we’ll need to come up with a logical reason for why you’ll be spending so much time here.”

Dean paused and furrowed his brow, looking around the room as he considered that. “What if maybe I was...doing maintenance or something? You know how dad is...anything I can be doing to suck up to you he’d be thrilled about. I can tell him I’m cleaning here or working on other random stuff around the house.”

Castiel nodded slowly, crossing one ankle over the other and his arms over his chest. “That could work.”

Dean shrugged. “Doubt he’d bother asking questions.”

“Yes, that’s good.” Castiel took a few steps toward him, stopping just in front of him and tilting his head slightly. “I apologize for how random this is, but...you said you  _ were _ sexually active, correct?”

Dean snorted. “Yeah,  _ was _ .”

Castiel smiled but it was gone almost as soon as it came. “Have you actually ever had a sexual encounter with a man before?”

Dean blushed and looked down at his feet, slipping his hands in his pockets as he shrugged. “Ah, no...I…” he glanced up and sighed, wishing Castiel’s gaze didn’t make him so nervous all the time. “I could never...risk it. My dad and brother don’t know that I’m... different. For a short period I actually tried to pretend I wasn’t. Told myself it was a phase, repressed it as much as I could. Never worked, though. Kept thinking…” 

“Thinking...?” Castiel prompted gently. 

Dean chewed his lip and glanced away. “Of...someone.” He cleared his throat and thought that couldn’t have been anymore obvious, but it was true. Castiel invaded his thoughts constantly over the last couple of years and his body’s response couldn’t be denied. 

Castiel watched him for what seemed like forever before he sighed and slowly reached out for Dean’s hand, inclining his head back toward the throne. “C’mere.”

Dean stopped in front of the large chair when Castiel sat down in it and motioned him forward. Dean took a tentative step toward him, taking Castiel’s hand again when he offered it. Castiel pulled him as close as he could between his legs and looked up at him as he slowly put his hands on his waist, turning him around and pulling him down into his lap. His hands slid up Dean’s sides and around to his front as he pulled him back, until Dean’s back was molded against Castiel’s chest, his head resting against his shoulder. Castiel wrapped his left arm tightly around Dean’s middle and brushed his fingers down the side of his neck with his other hand, dipping his head to run the tip of his nose along his jaw, his breath hot on Dean’s neck. Dean shivered noticeably when Castiel pressed his lips behind his ear, his muscles stiffening.  

“Relax, Dean,” Castiel whispered against his skin, hugging him securely from behind. Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making a concentrated effort to unclench tight muscles and let himself sink into the embrace. 

“Good,” Castiel praised him, kissing his hair. “That’s good. Now I want you to talk to me, Dean. Tell me more. Tell me when you knew you were attracted to men as well as women. Tell me why you felt you needed to repress this part of yourself.”

Dean took a breath and released it slowly, fingers twitching on the armrests until a warm hand wrapped around his, ceasing his nervous movements. 

“I’ve never really talked about that before,” Dean said quietly, his voice sounding too loud to his own ears. 

“I understand,” Castiel said slowly, tracing one of Dean’s fingers. “You don’t have to, of course, but it might help me better understand you and formulate a good care plan.” 

Dean swallowed and looked down at his lap, tracing the fibers of his jeans with his eyes as he recalled old memories long since put away and dusted over. 

“Um, I think I was 14 maybe? When I first realized I was different,” Dean licked his lips and furrowed his brow as he thought. “My dad enrolled me in football, and I kept noticing the other boys in the locker room. Noticed them the way I noticed girls. It scared me, because I knew that kind of thing wasn’t normal. Not according to my dad, anyway. We had a gay couple that lived by us for a little while. Dad was always polite, but sometimes he made these comments when they weren’t around. He didn’t like two guys together, thought it was weird.” 

“Is that why you suppress it?” Castiel asked gently. “You don’t want to upset your father?” 

Dean shrugged, watching Castiel’s finger trace his knuckles. “Guess so. I have a friend, Charlie. She likes girls. She’s out and proud, you know, but she has a hard time at school sometimes. And her family treats her different. My dad is nice, but standoffish too. I guess I just didn’t want another reason to feel like my dad cares less for me than Sam.” 

“Do you doubt your father’s love for you?”

Dean swallowed hard, trying to keep from tearing up. “Sometimes, yeah. I don’t doubt that he loves me, necessarily, but I just...I don’t know if it’s enough, don’t know if he’d still love me if...if he knew...”

“Would you say that validation is what you covet most? Your father’s acceptance for who you really are? Knowing he’ll love you just as much as Sam, even knowing everything about you?”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

Castiel hummed and wrapped his arms back around Dean’s torso. “Tell me more about the locker room, Dean. Did you ever attempt to act on your urges?”

Dean shook his head and let out a shaky breath. “No, never.”

“Not even alone? Visuals, videos…?”

Dean almost shook his head again, but he stopped, biting his lip. He supposed if he had to be honest, now was as good of a time as any to tell Castiel his secret. “Once. And it comes with a bit of a...confession.”

Dean was quiet for a long time when Castiel didn’t answer, trying to decide the best way to come out with the information. Castiel waited patiently, adjusting him to a more comfortable position in his lap and innocently sliding one hand under the hem of Dean’s shirt, splaying it across Dean’s abdomen.

“The first night I ever met you…” Dean started, his throat already dry, raspy, “when we came to the party you had here. At the end of the night I was looking for Sam, and I came up here…”

He paused, swallowing a few times, trying to wet his throat, anxiety rising in his chest.

“Go on, sweet boy,” Castiel encouraged him, causing this weird affection swell in Dean’s chest.

“I...I accidentally...saw you. With Miss MacLeod.”

Castiel didn’t say anything at first, but slowly moved his hand across Dean’s skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Dean breathed shallowly for what felt like several minutes, the only sound in the otherwise silent room being the incessant pounding of his heart in his ears. 

“And you pleasured yourself after.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement, definitive knowledge that Castiel had, in fact, known about what transpired in his bathroom that night.

“Yes.”

“How did you feel afterward?”

Dean thought hard. “Better. It was almost...freeing,” he said, then frowned as he remembered more. “But then I felt ashamed, when I caught up with Sam and dad.”

“Ashamed because of what you did, or because you were supposed to be finding Sam instead?” Castiel’s hands stilled again.

“Both.” 

“Why?” Castiel’s hand raveled up his arm, fingertips ghosting over his skin. 

“B-because Sam is my responsibility,” Dean faltered and cleared his throat. “But...but mostly because it felt...wrong. I trespassed in your personal space after you told me not to. I saw something private. And I thought you might be like dad...that you didn’t like guys with guys. Certainly wouldn’t like some boy lusting after you.” 

Castiel hummed quietly and nosed just below Dean’s ear, his other hand tracing circles around Dean’s belly button. 

“Saw you that night,” he spoke into Dean’s skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “I saw you open the door. Then you tripped and fell. I heard a door slam shut. It was only afterwards I deduced what happened in the bathroom.” 

Dean stiffened and his face reddened with embarrassed. He squirmed and almost choked on his own air. “I’m- I’m so s-sorry, I didn’t-“ 

“Do I sound upset to you?” 

Dean paused and moistened his lips, hands trembling on the armrests. “I...I don’t…” 

“I’m not,” Castiel murmured. “And I wasn’t then.” 

Dean swallowed hard. “I-”

“ _ Relax,  _ baby,” Castiel whispered insistently, laying his hands over Dean’s. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. We’re just talking. You’re doing very well.”

Dean took a steadying breath and tried to will away his blush, nodding slightly as he melted back into Castiel again. 

“Why do you feel Sam is your sole responsibility?”

“Because he...he just  _ is _ .”

“But why you? Why not your father? John seems, to me, perfectly capable of taking care of and providing for his family. Why do you feel like you have to be the one to raise Sam? I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you stepped into that role, when it should have already been occupied.” Castiel threaded their fingers together, tightening his hold around Dean’s hand, pressing them heavily onto the wooden armrests.

“Well, I…” Dean frowned, trying honestly to figure out why or when it did happen exactly. As it happened it sort of felt gradual, but as he considered it, it really did have only one motivating factor. “My mom died, when I was real young. Sammy was only a baby, less than a year old. There was a fire at our old house. Dad handed me Sam, told me to get outside, and he went back in after her.” His throat clicked audibly when he swallowed, blinking back tears. “But...couple minutes later when he came back out, mom wasn’t with him.” He paused, but Castiel was silent, so he continued: “Dad was pretty torn up, for...a long time after that. He drank a lot. There were a lotta nights he didn’t come home. My uncle Bobby watched us sometimes, but...mostly it was just me lookin’ after Sammy. It just kinda stuck.”

“So you stepped in...not only in place of your father, but also your mother.”

Dean shrugged and sniffed. “I guess.”

“Hmm.” There was another pause, and Castiel untangled their fingers, tapping Dean on his hip. “Stand, Dean.”

Dean obeyed, getting to his feet and turning back to face Castiel as he stood too. He took Dean by his arms and turned them, until Dean’s knees hit the throne, and Castiel gently pushed him down into the seat. Dean gripped the armrests, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and out of place, and his eyes followed Castiel as he knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in his own.

“I want to try something,” Castiel said, pressing his thumbs into Dean’s palms. “It’s going to sound weird at first, maybe even a little unorthodox, but...humor me.”

Dean nodded, his breath catching in his throat, anticipation causing his skin to prickle. Castiel licked his lips and Dean’s eyes followed the action, heart racing.

“I want you to try out the name ‘daddy’.”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his lip quivered as he tried to speak. “W-what?”

Castiel just nodded in encouragement. He didn’t look like he was joking, or embarrassed, or ashamed. He squeezed Dean’s hands, pressing his thumbs to his palms again, grounding him. His eyes were gentle and kind, concerned, protective, and Dean didn’t even try to puzzle out how the guy could convey so much in just a look.

“I…” Dean hesitated, his tongue teasing the back of his teeth, his voice low and tentative. “I want you, daddy.”

Castiel’s eyes darkened and he pressed his lips together hard, the smallest hint of a pleased smile pulling at them. He nodded definitively, letting go of Dean’s hands in favor of taking his face between them and stroking his cheeks again. Dean closed his eyes and let it wash over him; the relief, the swell in his chest from pleasing Castiel, how weirdly  _ right _ the name sounded on his tongue.

“That’s the one,” Castiel said, and Dean opened his eyes again, reaching up to wrap his hands around Castiel’s wrists. “It suits you. It’s perfect.”

Dean thought his heart was going to leap out of his throat. He tried to swallow, to breathe, but he couldn’t seem to get any of his muscles to listen. He squeezed Castiel’s wrist tightly and leaned forward, trembling as he fought a wave of unhinged emotion, built up over years of repression, flooding through him like a rushing current that was too strong to fight against. There were too many feelings to take stock of, but the most prominent was relief and freedom, so overwhelming that Dean felt like he could cry. 

Castiel held him through the chaotic and sudden onslaught, seeming to understand it, accept it, maybe even expect it. For Dean it came out of nowhere and it left him breathless, exhausted, but strangely sated. Like an orgasm, but completely dry and not very physical at all. 

“I take it you like that name,” Castiel asked, amusement in his voice. 

Dean licked his dry lips and nodded, still catching his breath. 

“Good,” Castiel whispered. “You’re going to be my boy. My sweet boy, my pretty boy, my  _ good _ boy. Do you like that, Dean?”

Dean shuddered violently and nodded hastily, his blood pumping south at an alarming rate. 

“Hmm, _sweet_ _boy_ ,” Castiel said again. “Yes, that will be perfect. Just perfect. Now,” he stood, pulling Dean up with him and cupping his cheek briefly before walking over to the table at the second door, opening one of the drawers and pulling something out. He looked down at it, turning it over in his hands as he made his way back to Dean. “In addition to the rules I want you to draw up, I’m giving you homework tonight.”

Dean raised a brow. “Homework?”

“Yes.” Castiel handed over the package, and Dean reddened when he realized it was a semi-small, plain-looking dildo and a tube of lube. 

“Um. What, uh…”

“Anal sex, as you can imagine, is vastly different than vaginal sex, Dean. Preparation is needed, required, and for someone who’s never done it before…” he sighed, “it can be...uncomfortable, at first. And while I’m going to work with you, build you up to where you need to be, it can’t hurt to prime yourself a little beforehand. It’ll give you an idea of what to expect. And do some research as well, work on some relaxation techniques. These are all things I will also do with you, but it’s a lot less jarring this way.”

Dean pointedly looked down at the package to avoid Castiel’s burning gaze on top of his embarrassment. He managed to nod, and Castiel gripped his chin, stroking gently as Dean finally let his eyes meet intense blue.

“So…” Dean said nervously, “you want me to use this on myself.”

“Yes, but don’t rush it,” Castiel’s lips twitched into a frown. “As I said, the first few times can be uncomfortable. It can hurt if you don’t relax and take your time. Feel free to use whatever techniques you want to heighten arousal and help your body ease into it. It’s for your enjoyment, after all.”

Dean breathed shakily and nodded, gripping the package tightly and wondering how the hell he was ever going to get  _ relaxed _ enough in his dad’s house to use a friggin’ dildo. 

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” Castiel asked, looking at Dean in concern.

“No, no,” Dean shook his head. “Just, you know, a lot for one day is all. I think I’m still trying to process it. None of this is exactly what I expected to happen after I bitched at you for giving me 20 grand. A part of me still thinks it isn’t real.”

“Well, after our first official scene, I can assure you it will feel very real,” Castiel chuckled and gently ushered Dean out the door. He shut it behind them tightly and locked it, which Dean thought was very sensible. He could only imagine what he’d thought if he had walked into that room at 16. 

“I think we’ve covered everything we can for today,” Castiel said as they walked downstairs. “If you have any spare time, I’d like to add another bit of homework.”

“Oh?” Dean raised a brow.

“If you can, I’d you like to make a small list of any kinks you may have,” Castiel smiled when Dean blushed again. “You’re young, so I don’t expect you to know everything you like or don’t like. You don’t have enough experience to know. But make a list of what you do know, and if you come across anything during your research,  include that as well.”

Castiel walked him to the door and opened it, leaning against the edge as Dean walked through the threshold. He closed the door behind them and locked up, and they walked to the car with Castiel guiding him with a possessive hand on his lower back. They got in and Castiel started up the near silent car, pulling out of his drive without a word. 

“How are you feeling about everything?” he finally asked, glancing quickly over at him. 

Dean was quiet as he contemplated, staring blankly out the window. “It's...a lot,” he admitted, “but I think...I think it'll be good for me. It's scary, and I'm not sure exactly if I'll be any good at… this. But it's… kind of exciting, too.”

Castiel looked over at him, quirking a smile. “I think you're well cut out for this. And if you want my opinion, I think you'll benefit greatly from it.”

Dean nodded and they spent the rest of the drive in silence. Dean sat in the car for a good while after Castiel pulled up at his house. He stared at the unsuspecting house, knowing that Sam was probably inside still studying and his dad was either asleep or several whiskeys deep. He sighed and got out of the car, on his way to close the door when he heard Cas. 

“Dean.”

Dean ducked his back into the car. “Yeah?”

“What did I tell you about those looks getting you into trouble?”

Dean's breath hitched and a slow smile spread across his face. Castiel smiled back, putting the car in reverse and looking out the windshield, both hands on the wheel. As soon as Dean closed the door he backed away, and seconds later he was out of view. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are Sydney and Lauren spending their Valentine's Day?  
> Well, writing a lovely little epilogue for the story that makes us feel dewy in all the right places ;)
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day, pets!   
> Kneel, breathe, know your safe word, and you better not come until we say so!

Dean discovered very quickly that there was  _ a lot _ of information about the BDSM lifestyle and that Castiel was right: he was  _ very _ naive.

It was late and the house was quiet. Sammy had long gone to bed and John had passed out hours ago. Truthfully Dean wouldn’t mind shutting his eyes either, but he kept clicking away at his laptop, chewing his fingernail as he read through each website he could find. Some were personal blogs written by either Subs or Doms, each with its own interesting perspective on the subject and offering Dean an insight into exactly how different these relationships can be. Some were purely sexual, some were completely nonsexual, and some were a mix of both. Some relationships were 24/7, the Dom and Sub always in “play” in some form or another. Depending on the agreement, a Dom could have full control over his or her Sub at all times, even going as far as telling them when to speak or if they’re even allowed to speak. Some couples only resumed their Dom or Sub rolls part-time, and lived completely normal lives outside of their “play” time. Some were romantically involved and some weren’t. Some Doms did it for a living and took in clients to be their Subs, though Dean couldn’t imagine submitting to a stranger.

There was a whole world, a community and way of life, that was built up around this thing that Dean had previously thought was only about kinky sex, and he was floored by how intricate it was.

There was even a collaring system. Some couples used this more than others, but from what he could tell these collars could signify a lot. Sometimes they even took the place of wedding rings, and a collared Sub was a claimed Sub. These collars could range from plain brown leather to genuine goatskin, black with studs, and with a leash just for shits and giggles.

He looked over at his closed door and back at the computer, then at the package Castiel had given him. True, Dean didn't have a good idea of Castiel's actual… _ size _ , but from what he remembered of the night of the party, the toy he'd given him would only just give him an idea of what to expect. He bit his lip and looked back at the website, reading a bit further to a section that discussed bondage and suspension, which both terrified and excited him at the same time. He assumed that the bed in Castiel's playroom was equipped for all that and more, and he wondered how long it would be before Castiel felt comfortable introducing that into the equation. 

Whipping and paddling was next, and again, Dean wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. All the sex he'd had had been purely… _ vanilla _ , according to these websites. He ventured that he might enjoy a bit of pain, but he wasn't sure to what degree. 

If there was one thing he knew for sure, though, one thing he trusted, it was that Castiel wouldn't push him too far past his comfort zone. 

He sighed and picked up the package, glancing at his door again as he ripped it open and pulled out the sleek black dildo, the bottle of lube falling onto his bed. He turned the dildo over in his hands, frowning. It wasn't as if he'd never thought of this sort of thing before, but more so that he never had the opportunity to explore it, and now that he did he was finding it much more intimidating than he expected. 

Dean sighed roughly and set the dildo and lube aside on his bed. He pushed his laptop away and stretched out on his back, closing his eyes. He’d definitely need some help if he was going to do this. Luckily his brains almost immediately conjured up Castiel, the star of practically all his porn fantasies. At first he saw the usual scene; Castiel pounding into that receptionist, those thick thighs clenching and those sharp hips snapping. 

But now he had something new, didn’t he?

He had the feel of Castiel’s hands on him, his fingers teasing his arm, his belly. The feel of his lap pressing against his ass and thighs. That strong chest hugged against his back. Hot breath on his neck, gravelly voice in his ear.

Dean wasn’t at all surprised that his cock responded quickly, thickening between his legs. He reached down and cupped himself, squeezing the base and stroking once. That was the beauty of his obsession. He didn’t need porn to get himself off; all he had to do was think of Castiel. 

He teased himself for a while, bringing himself to the edge and pulling back, getting himself relaxed and his muscles loose. Dean then grabbed the lube and poured a generous amount on his fingers, slicking them up before reaching down. He tentatively circled his rim, sucking a breath through his teeth at how foreign it felt. He rubbed against it, getting the rim slick with lube, acquainting himself with the feeling of something touching his ass. Forcing himself to relax further, Dean pressed the tip of his finger inside. His muscles immediately clenched down tightly at the intrusion and he hissed, slipping it back out. 

It was...weird. Not a bad feeling, necessarily, or painful, just...weird. He couldn’t understand why so many articles he’d read about anal sex talked like it was so pleasurable, because if it was anything like that, he couldn’t imagine it feeling good enough to make him come. He laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, holding his hand out by his side. His cock had already begun to wane a little, and in a desperate attempt to revive it, he thought again of Castiel. Only this time, Castiel binding him to that awkward chair in his playroom and spanking him, admiring his red ass before he pushed inside-

Yep, that did it. His cock gave a valiant twitch and he stroked it a few times, closing his eyes and once again taking himself to the edge with thoughts of Castiel dominating him in every way his naive mind could conjure. That’s not even including the things Castiel surely had in mind that Dean didn’t know about, and not knowing made it all the more exciting.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he squirted some more lube on his fingers, cocking a leg up to properly reach down and circle his rim again while he continued to stroke himself slowly with his other hand. It felt strangely good this time, perhaps the foreign sensation, or how taboo it was, but by the time Dean pushed his finger in again, he had to bite back a groan. He worked to prepare himself this time, like the articles had said, working the finger in and out slowly and around the inside of his rim. There were apparently some men who claimed that prostate stimulation alone could make them orgasm. Dean vaguely hoped he could get himself to that point, and he wondered as he finally added a second finger if that would be something that would impress Castiel, or if he’d seen it before. Of course, Dean didn’t even know how many subs he’d had in the past, although he assumed the number could potentially be high considering he’d done it for so long, and he didn’t know if Castiel had ever had a male sub before him. He assumed as much, especially since sexuality and gender didn’t seem to particularly matter to Castiel.

He wondered, as he scissored his fingers carefully, what exactly Castiel  _ did _ look for in his Subs, if not a certain gender or sexuality. What was it about Dean that he wanted? What quality did he have that made Castiel think he’d be a good Sub for him? And why didn’t he already have a Sub? From what Dean could tell, and according to their contract, Castiel wasn’t playing Dom for anyone else.  How long has it been since he’s had a Sub before Dean came along?

Dean shook his head and shifted, spreading his legs a little more. Too many questions. Too many unknown factors that he had no answers to and no real way of getting said answers. If he knew anything about Castiel, it was that the man was extremely private. For one who seemed so casual, so unguarded, he knew how to slip through a conversation without revealing anything about himself while learning everything about the other person. It was frustrating and impressive.

Dean exhaled slowly, finally feeling his muscles loosen and his fingers slide in and out a little easier. He stroked himself slowly, smearing the pre-cum over his shaft, keeping it steady and letting his body grow accustomed to the penetration. If it was this much for only his fingers, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to take Castiel inside. The thought had his cock twitching in his hand, throbbing at the thought. He was excited to feel it, to let Castiel work him open expertly, to know what it was like to have someone who knew what they were doing fill him up and make it feel  _ good _ .

He looked over at the dildo and sighed, slowly withdrawing his fingers and picking it up. He didn’t let himself think too hard about it before he slicked it with lube and pressed it against his rim, sliding it over the clenching muscle. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he pushed it just inside, immediately sucking in a sharp breath. It was only slightly bigger than his fingers combined, but for some reason he felt...almost more in control when it was his fingers instead. He wiggled it around slightly and twisted it as he began stroking his cock again, and the pleasurable sensation began to return, then again tenfold as he closed his eyes and imagined it was Castiel pressing into him. He pushed it in a bit deeper and arched as a shiver ran through his body, down to his toes and back up to his cock. 

He was almost to the point that he was sure if he could physically  _ feel  _ Castiel’s hands on his body, he’d come instantly. He was so close, just on that edge, teetering but refusing to tip over. He needed to feel more, just a  _ little  _ bit more…

He pulled the dildo out just a little and pushed it back in, deeper this time, stroking faster. Suddenly he got an idea, and instead of stroking and pushing the dildo, he thrust up into his hand and pushed down against the toy, throwing his head back into his pillow and imagining  _ Castiel  _ dominating him, touching him. He’d given Dean the homework, after all, so he had to have some idea of how Dean’s night would be going. 

Then an even better vision popped into his head: the idea of Castiel touching himself to the knowledge that Dean would be doing the “homework” he assigned him...the image of Castiel sitting in the throne of the playroom and stroking his thick cock, all because he knows his newest Sub is doing the same at home. It was much more...vulgar than Castiel had given any indication to be, even with all this kink type stuff, but regardless it had Dean coming into his fist within seconds, his hole clenching around the dildo, the orgasm seeming to last forever.

When he finally came down from it, breathless and boneless, Dean slipped the dildo out and tossed it onto the bed. He laid, splayed out and sated, blinking up at the ceiling as he caught his breath. It was easily one of the best orgasms of his life, but he knew Castiel would soon overshadow it with his skilled hands. It was a thrill to think what Castiel would do to him, for him. Dean still doubted his capabilities to do this, to be a Sub, a  _ good _ Sub. One who obeyed and complied and pleased his Dom. Above all, he desperately wanted to please. He didn’t want Castiel to regret choosing him.

Dean huffed and rolled over, grabbing a towel from the floor and wiping himself off. He cleaned the dildo and put it and the lube back inside the box, which then went under his bed. John never went in his room and Sam only came in when he was wanting to borrow a CD or steal a shirt. It was the small silver lining to playing the adult and taking care of Sam; he had his privacy. Which was good, because if he was really going to do this Submissive thing, he’d need all the privacy he could get.

\---- 

“Have you prepared your lists for me?”

Dean looked down at his messily scrawled notes, on paper he’d pulled hastily from his notebook during school to stuff into his backpack when Charlie approached him to talk about potentially going to a movie that weekend. Dean had to tell her that he wasn’t sure, since he didn’t know if Castiel had plans for them or not, and he could tell by the look on her face that she knew he was hiding something, but she didn’t press for an explanation.

“Yes.”

Castiel hummed, barely having looked up from the paperwork splayed across his desk in his study since Dean had arrived almost twenty minutes earlier. In fact, that was one of the only things Castiel had said to him in that time. He looked up to his computer and frowned, pushing his glasses up on his face, and back down at the papers in front of him, jotting a few things down. Finally he clicked his pen and sat it to the side, removed his glasses, and looked up at Dean, clasping his hands on top of his desk and giving him a small smile.

“How are you, Dean?”

Dean raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded, then cleared his throat. “Good. I’m, uh...good.”

“Excellent.” Castiel pulled a large crystal ashtray from the corner of his desk over to him and dug around in one of his drawers, producing a lighter and pack of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips and lit it, exhaling toward the ceiling and shoving the cigarettes and lighter back in his drawer before closing it again. “I’m to assume you completed every aspect of your assignment?”

Dean averted his eyes as he felt the blush rising on his cheeks. “Yes.”

“Tell me about your experience. Was it positive, negative? How did you feel after?”

“Um…” Dean’s voice cracked, “I-”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Dean. You need to be able to discuss these things with me. It’s not for me to judge you, or mock you. I just want to learn from you. You have to trust me with everything about you, or none of this will work.”

Dean fidgeted under Castiel’s gaze, oddly reminded of being called to the principal’s office. He set his small packets of papers aside and wrung his hands in his lap. It was an odd place and setting to discuss anything sexual, but he supposed they had to get through the business part of this first before they got to the fun stuff. 

“It was….weird,” Dean finally said.

Castiel frowned. “Weird...bad?”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “Just different. At first, it was just uncomfortable.” Castiel nodded at this. “But it got, um, better.”

“And why is that?” Castiel asked, genuinely curious. “What did you do differently?”

Dean squirmed and scratched behind his neck nervously. “I just...thought of you.”

Castiel eyed him for a moment, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Hm. Go on.”

“Uh, well, it was a...positive experience, I guess,” Dean said slowly, using Castiel’s words. “I felt really good afterwards. Like... _ really _ good.”

“So you achieved orgasm.”

Dean swallowed and nodded shyly.

“So when you say you felt ‘good’ afterwards, was that in reference to yourself physically or emotionally?”

“Um, both.” Dean said, shifting slightly in his seat. “Emotionally it felt...similar to when I...did it here.” Castiel nodded, his face unreadable. “It was...freeing, exhilarating. And physically, it was just... _ intense _ .”

“Do you think you’ll do it again?”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “Definitely.”

“Good.” Castiel took a drag from his cigarette and tapped it against the tray, pushing his seat out as he stood. He walked around the desk and leaned against the front, crossing his ankles and holding his cigarette between two fingers, bracing himself against the desk. He nodded toward the small stack of papers. “Are those your rules and lists?”

Dean grabbed them and nodded.

Castiel took a drag on his cigarette and leaned back to tap it in the tray, his white button-up stretching taut across his chest. “Wonderful. Read them to me. Rules first.”

Dean cleared his throat and chewed on his lips briefly as he leafed through his papers.  

“Uh, okay,” he mumbled. “First, uh, no degrading language during scenes. Like...bitch, or slut...I’m not into that.”

Castiel nodded thoughtfully, not looking the least bit bothered.

“Second,” Dean continued. “I don’t want us in, uh, ‘play’ all the time. I’m only your Sub during our scheduled times together. Outside those times and this house, I’m not your Submissive.”

Castiel took a drag from his cigarette, waiting for Dean to continue, his expression unreadable.

“Third: I don’t consent to anything that will intentionally make me bleed or leave any lasting marks.”

“Define lasting marks.”

Dean blinked and thought for a moment. “Scarring. Anything that takes more than a day to go away.” He looked up at Castiel and shrugged. “I can’t risk Sammy or dad seeing anything.”

“Of course,” Castiel nodded, picking up a pen and scribbling a note down on one of his papers. “I just wanted clarification. Anything else?”

Dean shook his head, setting the paper on the desk. 

“Good,” Castiel gestured towards the other paper sitting in Dean’s lap. “Read to me your kinks. Don’t leave any out. Nothing you can say will make me judge you.”

“Well, I…” Dean picked up the paper, scanning over the small list. “I don’t have a lot. I just...didn’t know-”

“I understand,” Castiel waved his hand. “Just tell me what you know, and the rest we’ll discover as we go.”

“Okay,” Dean said, his throat dry, and he coughed once before lowering his eyes to his paper again. “I like the idea of being tied up.”

He glanced up at Castiel to see the smallest glint in his eye, but he pressed his lips together and nodded, encouraging him to continue. 

“And...while I don’t want to bleed or anything...I think I would like  _ some  _ pain. And dirty talk, if it’s not really degrading, obviously.”

Castiel hummed and nodded. “Yes, good. I think I have a pretty good idea of where to start with you. But don’t worry...we’ll start small and work our way to more intense scenes. We’ll go entirely at your pace.” He clasped his hands together in front of him. “We’ll use the basic safe words; yellow if you’re uncomfortable, or feeling close to reaching your limit, so I know to adjust accordingly. Red will ensure that I stop whatever action I’m performing immediately. Do not feel ashamed to use it, or hesitate to if you don’t enjoy what is happening. Do you understand?”

Dean nodded. “Yes.”

“What’s yellow?”

“Say it when I’m close to my limit.”

“And red?”

Dean licked his lips. “Stop immediately.”

“Good. Do you feel comfortable using those safe words?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. We can change them at any time if you wish, just let me know prior to a scene. Also, in case you were curious, we will both be taking precautions to protect ourselves. Condoms will always be worn during play...all types of play in which a sex act is being performed. That’s to include oral sex. This is for your protection as well as mine.”

“Okay.” 

Castiel smirked slightly and pushed himself off the desk, walking back around to sit down, organizing some of the papers on his desktop. “Do you have your lab work from the doctor?”

Dean nodded and fished it out, handing it over to Castiel wordlessly. It confirmed what Dean had already told him, that he was clean. Castiel read it over quickly and nodded to himself, adding it to the rest of the packet Dean had brought. He opened a drawer and shuffled around for a minute, finally pulling out a few papers and passing them over to Dean. 

They were his own test results, proclaiming him negative for all STDs. 

“Excellent,” Castiel said, tapping his cigarette in the ashtray. “We have everything we need for me to draw up an official contract. Shouldn’t take me more than a day or two. Once you have read over the final draft, we can sign.”

Dean licked his lips. “And then we can start…?”

Castiel smiled, his eyes glinting. “Yes. And then we can start.”

Dean nodded and glanced around, his knee bouncing slightly. Castiel watched him for a moment, cigarette hanging between his lips before he finally snuffed it out.

“You’re eager,” he murmured, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. 

“Guess so,” Dean mumbled. 

“That’s good,” Castiel chuckled, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands in his lap. “So tell me. Did you do any research of your own?”

Dean sighed and nodded, trying to ignore how the simple image of Castiel sitting casually in his office chair, looking every bit the business powerhouse he was, was making his heart thump a little faster.

“There’s a lot,” Dean snorted. “It’s like this whole other world.”

“It can be quite...jarring, for those new to the real lifestyle,” Castiel agreed. “And the internet is a wonderful and useful tool to use, but...as I’m sure you realized, it can be conflicting. Some of the information is correct, but far more is incorrect, or doesn’t paint the community in a good light. People place far too much value on the kink aspect, and not nearly enough on the emotional aspect. Which is the entire reason I felt you’d make a good candidate for the lifestyle.”

Dean pressed his lips together and fidgeted his hands in his lap. 

“I feel that what you need the most, what you truly crave, whether you realize it or not, is a strong emotional bond. A connection with someone unlike you’ve ever had before, different from the love you have for your father or your brother. A bond in which your specific needs are fulfilled, with someone whose number one priority is you. You need support, you need a safe place, and most importantly, someone you can trust. I’m going to be those things for you. I want you to know that you can come to me about anything, confide in me, ask me for anything you need. I’ll know if you’re keeping things from me, if you’re putting everything into the relationship that you should be. You’ll find that the amount of trust required for this creates a vulnerability that lays the groundwork for a very...intense relationship.”

“Vulnerability…” Dean murmured to himself. 

“Yes,” Castiel nodded, tilting his head as he regarded Dean thoughtfully. “You’re putting yourself in a position that will leave you...bare, so to speak.”

“Most people get naked before sex,” Dean snorted weakly.

“Not bare physically,” Castiel tapped his cheek, crossing his knees. “Although you will be. What I mean is emotionally, psychologically. Essentially…” he leaned forward, his eyes darkening, and Dean swallowed thickly. “I’m going to break you apart, piece by piece, then carefully and lovingly put you back together.”

Dean exhaled roughly and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and trying to settle his heart. He heard Castiel’s chair squeak softly, the shuffle of footsteps, felt a warm palm on his cheek. 

“Dean,” he said softly, stroking the boy’s skin with his thumb. “I don’t want to make you nervous. I merely wish to tell you the truth. These relationships, when handled properly, are extremely fulfilling and even therapeutic. But they  _ are _ intense and require the utmost trust between both partners. I am fully capable of giving you what you need. Even more so, I  _ want _ to give you that.”

Dean’s breath left him in a soft whoosh, his heart literally skipping a beat. “Kinda hard not to get nervous when you go sayin’ things like that.”

“Well, it’s not my intention.” Castiel quirked a smile. “I only mean to impress on you the seriousness of the contract we’re about to enter into. You won’t get out of it the full experience if you don’t take it seriously.”

“I  _ do  _ take it seriously,” Dean insisted, but Castiel hushed him, smoothing a thumb over his lips. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Dean. Just show me.”

Dean blinked up at him, his hands tightening on the armrests of his chair. He slowly parted his lips, teasing the tip of Castiel’s thumb with his tongue. When Castiel didn’t pull away, Dean leaned forward slightly, looking up at him through his lashes as he took the digit in his mouth, sucking gently on the tip. Castiel watched him intently, finally pulling his spit-slicked thumb out and sliding it across Dean’s bottom lip, leaning down until his lust-blown eyes were even with Dean’s. 

“What do you say, my sweet boy?”

Dean swallowed, eyes scanning Castiel’s face. “Yes, daddy.”

\----

“What’s with you lately?”

Dean looked up from the shit the school called meatloaf, mid-chew, to find his friends all looking at him expectantly. He blinked, swallowed, and scooped up another bite. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean,” Charlie said patiently, tucking some red hair behind her ear. “You seem to have something on your mind. You’ve been...quiet. And weird. And sometimes you rush out of here so fast we don’t even see you.”

Dean shrugged, busying himself with fake mashed potatoes. “Been busy last few days. Might...uh, might be startin’ a new job. Kinda.”

“Really?” Benny frowned, resting an elbow on the table. “Thought you worked with Bobby at his garage?”

“Just a couple of days a week,” Dean waved his hand. “This is something different. At my dad’s boss’s house.”

Ash finally looked up from his phone. “Doin’ what? Interning or something?”

“Not exactly,” Dean said slowly. “I’m just doin’ some maintenance stuff for him, things like that.”

“Okay…” Charlie looked skeptical, tapping a finger on her crossed arms. “Isn’t he, like, loaded? Why doesn’t he just hire professionals?”

“I did some work on his car recently,” Dean thought quickly. “He was impressed. And he just wants to give me a chance to earn some extra money. Plus, he’s kind of a private dude. Doesn’t like strangers in his house. He’s known me for a few years, and my dad since high school.”

“Huh…” Benny went back to his food. “That’s pretty cool of him. You gonna have time for all that, though? Feel like you’re already pretty busy.”

“He works around my schedule,” Dean shrugged, pushing his food aside. “And, uh, I dunno. Sammy’s 16 now. He doesn’t need me watching him all the time.”

“True that,” Ash grunted, shoveling macaroni and cheese into his mouth. “You need a life, Dean.”

“I’m workin’ on it,” Dean muttered, though he was sure the life he was working to get wasn’t what his friends had in mind.

“Well I, for one, am glad that someone’s finally recognizing your potential, Dean,” Charlie said proudly, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s about time. Get so tired of hearing everyone talkin’ about how Sam’s the  _ smart _ one.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course we know Sam’s smart, but Sam learned most of what he knows from you, anyway.”

Dean pointedly looked down, hoping they didn’t recognize the blush creeping up his neck. 

“So where’s this guy live, anyway? You said it was...some kinda mansion or somethin’, didn’t ya?” Benny asked, pushing around his own food.

“Kinda. Ah, well...I mean, a lot bigger than anything I could ever imagine livin’ in. Way too big for one person, in my opinion.” Dean took a sip of his Pepsi, wetting his dry throat. “But it’s, uh, that big place near the country club, offa Lawrence Ave-”

“You mean that place on Arcadia?” Ash asked, eyebrows raised. “The one with the gated entrance and the big double doors and the solar panels on the roof?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s the one.”

“Shit,” Ash said, forkful of potatoes frozen halfway to his mouth. “What the hell he do, exactly? Didn’t think there was that much money in feeder and conveyor systems.”

“I guess when you’re the boss, there is,” Dean shrugged. “Besides, he’s been workin’ for big name places since he left college, to hear dad tell it. And he lives alone, so I imagine he’s probably been able to save a lot.”

“So no Mrs.?” Charlie asked, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Hmmm…”

“You’re gay,” Dean said bluntly.

“You’ve heard of ‘gay for pay’? I can be straight for...whatever.” She frowned briefly, then looked excitedly back up at Dean. “So, is he hot?”

Dean almost choked on his drink. “Uh, what-”

“The hell kinda question is that for a guy?” Ash snorted. “How is Dean ‘posed to know if the dude is hot?”

“Ash, don’t be so testosteroney.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “Guys can notice other guys and it still be platonic. Not hard to discern handsome from, you know, guys who look like you.”

“Hey!” Ash glared at her, so offended that he actually put his phone down. “I am one good lookin’ dude. No one’s gonna trust your opinion anyway.”

“Why? Because I’m a lesbian?”

“Exactly.” Ash went back to his phone.

“She’s right, Ash,” Benny said, always the calm voice of reason. “That’s backwards thinkin’, what you’re sayin’. I think Dean is handsome, but that doesn’t mean I wanna sleep with him. No offense, chief.”

“None taken,” Dean mumbled, wishing this conversation would end. He never told his friends of his preference for both sexes, though he was pretty sure Charlie knew. She always seemed to know everything. She was freaky that way.

“So?” Charlie raised a brow. “Is he hot?”

“I mean, I guess,” Dean shrugged. “He’s not ugly.” Far from it. Castiel was the hottest man he’d ever seen and now he was going to be entering a very interesting and sexual relationship with him. Not that he was going to be telling anyone any of that.

“Bingo. Got ‘im!” Ash announced, slapping his phone down and showing a picture of Castiel. He was decked out in a black pinstripe suit, his expression that of an all-business male who held a powerful position of a very large company. Or several, if John was to be believed. 

“Ohhh,” Charlie whistled, leaning over to get a better look. “Fuck me. I would go straight for him in a heartbeat.”

“Yep, I’d say he’s hot,” Benny nodded. “He lives alone, you said? No wife, kids? Not even a girlfriend?” 

Dean shrugged and shook his head.

“Huh,” Benny scratched his cheek. “Wealthy, handsome...wonder why he’s still single.”

“Gay.” Charlie said simply, pointing a finger at Benny.

“You think everyone’s gay!” Benny threw back.

“ _ You  _ think everyone’s straight!”

“Maybe he’s a jackass,” Ash said.

“No,” Dean said quickly, blushing when they all turned to him. “I mean, we’ve had him over for dinner a few times. He’s pretty nice. Doesn’t act like a rich snob.”

“Maybe he’s just one of those people who doesn’t believe in marriage, or monogamy, or whatever,” Charlie shrugged, spearing a piece of meatloaf. “Saw something about people like that on Oprah once. And you know what?” She pointed her fork at Dean. “A lot of those people  _ were  _ pretty wealthy, come to think of it.”

Dean frowned. “Yeah, I dunno, maybe. I’ve only seen him a couple of times since he started managing Hoppmann, but I’ve never really...seen him with anyone.” He’d leave out the bit about Miss MacLeod, considering that seemed to be a brief encounter, at best. But now he  _ was  _ curious about Castiel’s thoughts on marriage and the like. Not that he thought about things like that or anything, not really, and he knew that Castiel had been focused on his... _ alternative  _ lifestyle for the better part of his adult life. But he was now morbidly curious if Castiel had ever considered finally settling down with the right person. Or, perhaps, the right Sub.

“So you don’t know if he dates at all?” Charlie asked.

“I’m not the guy’s keeper,” Dean said a little irritably, holding his hands out. “Besides, like I said, he’s private. And he definitely doesn’t talk to me about his romantic partners.”

_ Understatement. _

The conversation essentially died there, the four of them choking down the barely edible food and getting back to class when the bell rang. The rest of the day went by in a bit of a daze for Dean, and when the last bell rang, he was a little unprepared to see his friends waiting for him by his car before he had the chance to dip out. The look on his face must’ve given him away, because Charlie threw up her hands. 

“It’s Friday!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you remember? Movie night?”

“Oh…” he cleared his throat, fiddling with his keys. “Right. Guess I forgot. Uh, can we-”

“No way,” Charlie put her hands on her hips, giving him the stern ‘mom’ face. “We haven’t hung out with you in forever. We’re having movie night.”

“Well, I didn’t really have in any movies picked out-” Dean tried, but Ash held up a bag full of DVDs. 

“I gotcha, bro,” he grinned. “Got us all the essentials.”

“Great…” Dean muttered, effectively cornered. He’d hoped he’d have a chance to do some more reading up on this life what he was getting himself into seeing that he’d be signing a contract in a day or two. 

They all piled into the car and luckily Sam was catching a ride with Jessica that day otherwise there wouldn’t have been room for all of them. John didn’t seem all that surprised to see the gang walk in and gave them run of the living room, lounging in the recliner as Ash popped in the first movie. Dean opted for ordering some pizzas for dinner since he was truly caught off-guard and there were a lot of people to suddenly feed.

“Hey, Mr. Winchester,” Ash sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. “Whatcha think about Dean’s new job?”

John frowned and turned to Dean, raising a brow. “You get a new job?”

“Ah, yeah,” Dean coughed, avoiding his gaze. “Kinda. Castiel was impressed with my work on his car. Wants me to do some work around his house and yard. Figured I’d do it. Few extra bucks before summer gets here.”

John’s eyes widened and he grinned. “No kidding? That’s great, Dean! Nice of him to give a kid a job like that.” He suddenly dug out his phone and stood. “I’ll invite him to dinner. Make sure you order enough pizza.”

“Dad, no, don’t bother him-”

John waved him off, raising the phone to his ear.

Dean sighed, but resigned himself to a comfortable reassurance that Castiel would more than likely decline, with it being such short notice and in the interest of keeping the extent of their relationship under wraps. Which is why Dean nearly choked to death on his soda when John announced that Castiel would be joining them, and in fact, he’d be there in thirty short minutes.

He’d also offered to pick up the pizza, since he drove right past it on the way anyway, and so when he pulled into the driveway, Dean nonchalantly excused himself to go help Castiel bring in the food. Castiel was leaned into the car when Dean approached pulling out sodas and a bag that contained crazy bread and sauce.

“What the  _ hell _ ?” Dean hissed, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible for anyone potentially watching out the window. 

Castiel straightened and raised an eyebrow, handing Dean the sodas and bag. “Oh, hello, Dean. How are you?”

“You...you  _ can’t  _ be here.”

Castiel’s face puzzled as he pulled out several boxes of pizza. “But your father and I are friends, and he _ invited _ me here.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“That would’ve been rude.”

“But- but he’ll  _ know _ ,” Dean insisted, shifting the bags of soda in his hands.

“And why is that?” Castiel raised a brow. “Do you plan on making an announcement?”

“Well  _ no _ ,” Dean whined, following Castiel up to the door. “But I...have a hard time. Around you. I’m gonna give it away.”

“Nonsense, Dean,” Castiel scoffed. “If he hasn’t seen those looks you give by now, he never will. Plus, I like pizza.”

“You’re rich,” Dean grumbled. “Just go buy the pizza place.”

“That would be greedy.”

Dean wanted to argue, but they were in the house and everyone was crowding around for pizza. The next few minutes were chaos, every grabbing slices and pouring drinks and trying not to spill anything. Miraculously no one did and soon their little living room was filled to capacity with hyper teenagers and two very brave-or patient- adults.

“I know this isn’t how our dinners usually go,” John chuckled. “They all sort of surprised me when they showed up, but I wanted to thank you for giving Dean a job.”

“I didn’t give Dean anything, John,” Castiel shrugged, sipping at his Pepsi. “He earned it.”

Dean blushed and was it weird he was sitting next to him? There was only so much space, after all. John had his recliner, Ash and Benny were on the floor, so he, Charlie and Castiel took the couch. Charlie didn’t know Castiel. It would be weird if she sat next to him.

“Still,” John continued, glancing at the TV. Ash had brought  _ Die Hard _ . Of course. “Not many would let someone so young work on such a nice house.”

“Well, after the exceptional job he did on my car, I found that Dean showed quite a bit of promise,” Castiel said plainly, taking a bite of pizza and wiping his mouth. “You know, in other areas. Around the house.”

Dean looked pointedly at the television, barely registering whatever the hell was going on as he concentrated on keeping his face neutral. He finally remembered he was supposed to be  _ eating _ , so he bit into his pizza and chewed slowly, sitting stiffly with his thigh pressed against Castiel’s.

“Boy’s handy around the house,” John grunted, barely looking away from the television.

“So I’ve noticed,” Castiel replied, and Dean cut his eyes up at him before Castiel had the chance to add: “He did much of the work around here, correct?”

“Oh yeah. Shingles on the roof, new slats on the deck, even most of the detailing on the Impala out there. He dabbles in electrical, plumbing, and, uh...didn’t you even learn a little sheetrocking over at Bobby’s that one summer?”

Dean had been so busy trying to ignore the conversation that he didn’t realize, at first, that John was talking to him...not until John called his name loudly. 

“Oh, uh...yeah, he taught me a little bit,” Dean murmured, taking a large bite of a piece of crazy bread and almost choking on it when he looked up to see Castiel staring at him with that intense look he always has.

“Dean’s sort of a jack-of-all-trades,” Charlie spoke up, glancing at Dean curiously when he tried to hunch his shoulders. “Does it all. Good with cars just as good as he is with fixing a creaky old house like this. But he’s a  _ genius _ with computers.”

“So are you,” Dean muttered.

“I’m good with hacking,” Charlie shrugged. “Finding information people don’t want me to know.  _ You _ can break a computer down to its basic components, hardware and software, and rebuild it. I’ve seen you write programs any company like Hoppman would be lucky to have.”

“Charlie…” Dean groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“You can already write programs, Dean?” Castiel asked, twisting to look at him. “From scratch?”

“Yes!” Charlie answered for him with a grin. “He’s been doing it since he was basically a toddler.”

“That is _ not _ true,” Dean argued, but she ignored him completely.

“Don’t listen to him,” Charlie scoffed, waving her hand. “He acts like he doesn’t care, but get him talking about this stuff and he won’t shut up for days. Trust me.”

“You didn’t tell me all this,” Castiel said evenly, his voice taking on a bit of a strange tone. “It’s something you should be proud of. I’d be interested in learning more about what you know.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, then nudged Charlie hard, almost causing her to drop her pizza. She shot him a glare and the room fell silent for a while, only the sounds of eating and the movie playing in the background. 

Castiel finished eating and wiped his mouth, then excused himself, stepping outside on the back deck for a cigarette. Dean resisted the urge to join him, if nothing else to bitch about what Dean felt was utter and absolute obviousness on his part, but that would probably just end up earning him one of those “punishments” Castiel warned him about. Not that Dean particularly minded.

So he forced himself to stay put and stare blankly at the television, laughing when everyone else did and joining in one the conversation when people started commenting. Castiel was outside for about ten minutes before returning, and he went straight down the hall to wash his hands before taking his place beside Dean again.

“So, uh, when should I make sure he’s at your place?” John asked, turning his attention back to Castiel, who sat a bit awkwardly with his hands clasped in his lap.

“Oh, I think the sooner the better,” Castiel said, without a hint of irony. “I have much to do and he’ll need to observe for awhile. I have a very particular way I like things done.”

Dean inhaled his soda and Charlie frowned, patting him on the back as he coughed his way through it.

“Well, whatever you need, Dean’ll get it done,” John shrugged, not seeming to notice his son’s anxious twitching. “Boy knows how to follow instructions.”

“Good to know,” Castiel murmured, and Dean was pretty sure he was going to die right then and there.

The night dragged for Dean, caught between awkward conversation between his dad and Castiel, and trying to ignore Charlie’s penetrating looks. Maybe John and Ash were blind to it, but she knew Dean too well to not see his awkward blushing and shy glances. Benny he was unsure of, since Benny tended to have an eye for when Dean wasn’t acting himself, but he also tended to zone completely out during a good action movie.

Castiel was there for close to two hours before he finally stood and excused himself, shaking John’s hand and denying his usual after-dinner drink. He had his hand on the handle of the front door before he turned around, smacking his forehead.

“Oh, Dean, I almost forgot. I have a check for you in my car.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and he felt four sets of eyes on the two of them. “A...check?”

“Yes,” Castiel said simply, frowning and tilting his head. “For the car parts, remember? And for the work you did, of course.”

“Oh! Right.”

Castiel pressed his lips together to suppress what looked like might’ve been a smirk, and Dean cleared his throat quickly and stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. 

“Be right back,” he murmured as he followed Castiel out the door, and thankfully everyone seemed to go back to watching the second  _ Die Hard _ movie without much thought.

“Did you come here just so you could make things difficult for me?” Dean hissed when he’d closed the gap between them.

Castiel was already leaned over in his passenger seat, rifling through his wallet. He looked back at Dean and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The  _ fuck _ you don’t!”

Castiel’s expression hardened and he stood, drawing himself to his full height over Dean, suddenly looking way more intimidating than Dean had ever noticed him being before. He couldn’t tell if it was in his head or because of the new knowledge he had.

“You have much too pretty a mouth to be uttering such vulgarities, boy.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut and swallowed, his heart rate suddenly picking up. Castiel held up the check between them, but Dean’s eyes never moved from his.

“I’ll need you at my house tomorrow morning, at 7 a.m., sharp. Do not be late. We’ll sign the contract, and your first scene will begin no later than 7:15 a.m.” His intense gaze sharpened, unblinking, and Dean was drawn into it until Castiel waved the check slightly. “Take the check, Dean. Your friends will be wondering where you are.”

Dean remembered to breathe and snatched the check, quickly pocketing it. Castiel eyed him for a long moment and it felt like he was picking Dean apart, but it was over a second later and Dean blinked dazedly as Castiel got into his car. He watched Castiel back out and disappear down the road, his hands clammy and his heart racing. 

7 a.m.

Tomorrow. 

In less than 12 hours, Dean would have his first scene. He had little idea of what to expect, but his excitement and slight panic were going to make sleep impossible. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Lauren here :) Sydney is not feeling well, so I'm here to post the next chapter! We finally get the ~fun~ stuff in this one, folks. Let me know if there are any glaring mistakes and I will fix them. As always, thanks for reading!

Dean wasn’t much of an early bird, but he was used to being up before the crack of dawn. To keep John from being too suspicious, he cooked them a quick breakfast then told his dad and Sam that Castiel wanted to get started today since it was a weekend. John looked proud, Sam looked disappointed that he wasn’t going to have a personal driver on Saturday, and Dean was out the door before any of them could say anything.

He spent the entire drive there with his hands clamped in the wheel and his heart beating wildly. He wondered if Castiel ever got nervous. Probably not. He was too damn _good_ to be nervous.

Before Dean even had a chance to knock, Castiel opened the door, standing on the other side with a small smile and wearing almost the opposite of what Dean might’ve expected for their first scene: brown loafers, soft gray chinos, a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a navy blue waistcoat. That’s not to say Dean wouldn’t have _dreams_ about Castiel’s tanned and muscled forearms.

“Good morning, Dean. Come on in.”

He stood back while Dean stiffly crossed over the threshold, and suddenly the entire vibe of the house felt different to him. It was weird how he could feel so comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time, but the tension in the air had him jumping when he felt Castiel’s hands on his back, tugging his coat from his shoulders.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

Dean actually hadn’t eaten anything himself this morning in his hurry to get out of the house, added to the fact that his stomach was in absolute knots not knowing what to expect. He swallowed hard and looked back at Castiel, nodding.

Castiel smiled. “Good.” He extended a hand to the kitchen and Dean moved that direction, stopping awkwardly at the large island and looking back at Castiel again. Castiel advanced on him slowly and Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he stopped just in front of him and raised his hands to Dean’s waist, swiftly helping him up onto the counter. He stepped back without a word, moving around the island to the stove, and returning with a plate full of a large omelet and what appeared to be some type of crepe.

Dean moved to take it from him, but Castiel held it just out of his reach. Dean pouted and the words left his mouth before he could even think about it.

“But I’m hungry, daddy.”

Castiel’s nostrils flared and his eyes darkened, jaw set in a hard line. Dean grinned and swung his legs, looking far more confident than he felt. Castiel stepped between his legs and speared a piece of omelette onto the fork, holding it up to Dean’s lips.

“Open up, sweet boy.”

Dean obeyed, sighing as he chewed. It was good, of course, because there was nothing Castiel couldn’t do, and apparently that extended to cooking. He swallowed and Castiel was already waiting with a forkful of crepe, which he slid slowly between his lips. The flavor of whipped cream, cream cheese, and strawberries exploded on his tongue and he closed his eyes and moaned around the fork, only partially exaggerated for Castiel’s benefit.

“Don’t mock, boy,” Castiel said lowly, and Dean opened his eyes and furrowed them as he chewed. Castiel tilted his head in the way one might do to a small child, and he reached up to hold his chin briefly. “Be genuine. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t need an insincere performance. When it matters, you won’t have to fake anything. I promise.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, frozen in Castiel’s gaze. Castiel dropped his hand back to the plate and raised another bite of crepe up to Dean’s lips, his expression carefully neutral as Dean took the bite from his fork. It took Dean several more bites before he felt a weird tension in his chest, a strange giddiness, like something akin to the night before Christmas. It wasn’t until Castiel stepped a little closer, situating himself snugly between Dean’s legs, that Dean realized the pooling in his gut was the beginning of an unexpected erection. He clasped his hands tightly in his lap, even while he desperately wanted to reach out and wrap them around Castiel’s waist...but Castiel hadn’t said it was okay, and Dean wasn’t sure how far he wanted to push him yet.

Dean tried to keep himself from fidgeting as Castiel continued to feed him- slowly, purposefully, patiently- until he was hard as a rock in his pants, which Castiel either hadn’t noticed or was very intentionally pretending not to. He stopped himself, probably for the fiftieth time, from reaching out and putting his hands on the man, instead closing his eyes as Castiel fed him another bite.

“You can touch me, baby.”

Dean opened his eyes and they widened as Castiel stared at him and nodded subtly, holding the plate with one hand and the fork with the other.

“Go on, sweet boy. Just right there, on my waist.”

Dean licked his lips, tasting egg and cheese, and slowly reached out, sliding his hands around Castiel’s waist. It was firm under his fingers, with sharp hip bones, and surprisingly stockier than Dean remembered. Castiel looked slim, but he was actually very well defined and had thick muscles, especially on the thighs. He was definitely more built than Dean, who had always had a small waist and slim, bowed legs.

Dean opened his mouth for a piece of crepe, the last piece actually, and chewed slowly as he relished the feeling of his hands _finally_ on Castiel. He squeezed his waist, dipped his thumb below the untucked shirt and shivered when he felt the warm skin beneath. Castiel smiled and fed Dean the last of the omelette, watching him chew and swallow, his eyes never wavering once. It was strange for Dean to someone’s attention so focused on him, as if he was literally all that mattered and the rest of the world simply didn’t exist. He found he liked that. A lot. And for whatever reason, his also very much liked being fed, if his hard cock was any indication.

Castiel set the plate aside, wiped a few crumbs from Dean’s lips, then trailed his fingertips down the side of Dean’s neck. He stopped at his collar bone, smirking briefly when he felt Dean’s fingers slip beneath his shirt to trace his hip bone.

“I like these,” Dean spoke hoarsely, pressing on the bone.

“Hm, good,” Castiel murmured. He pulled away only slightly and raised a brow. “Come. We have a contract to sign. Then you’re mine.”

Dean slid off the counter and took Castiel’s offered hand and followed him to the living room, where Castiel led him to the couch and sat down beside him. He grabbed his glasses from the table and slid them up his nose, scrubbing a hand down his mouth. There were two small stacks of papers beside each other on the coffee table, and Castiel scooted forward and grabbed one, along with a pen, and slid back again, presenting them to Dean.

“You’ll find all the technical information here, and everything we discussed,” Castiel explained, pointing to the top sheet with the pen. “Please read over everything. Go slow, take your time. If there are any inconsistencies or inaccuracies, bring them to my attention so they can be remedied. Initial each page, and sign the last one. These,” he grabbed the other stack of papers, “are your copies of both of our lab work, our rules, kinks, etcetera. They’re for you to keep.”

Dean nodded and took them, sliding them underneath the stack he already had. He licked his lips quickly and looked down at the first page of their contract, which looked all very... _official_. Castiel handed him the pen and sat back, draping his arm over the back of the couch and watching Dean closely.

Dean got comfortable-not easy to do when one was hard-and leaned back against the plush couch. He felt as though this was a test, a way for Castiel to make sure Dean was taking this seriously. Dean ignored the throbbing between his legs and read through the contract carefully. He didn’t expect to find any mistakes as Castiel was a very experienced Dom as well as a businessman, and this was definitely not his first contract. Still, he went through each sentence slowly before initialing each page, then finally signing the last page.

It was oddly freeing, signing it, knowing that he was now in Castiel’s hands. He had someone to come to now, someone who understood what he needed, someone to be safe and comfortable with enough to make himself completely vulnerable.

Castiel signed as well and then it was done, official. He belonged to Castiel and it felt _good_.

Dean looked up and Castiel beckoned him over. Dean crawled between his legs and stretched out, laying his head on Castiel’s chest and sighing when strong arms wrapped around him. _Oh_ , it felt good. Amazing. Safe, warm, right where he wanted to be.

“You’re mine now, sweet boy,” Castiel said quietly, a hand in Dean’s hair.

“Mmm…” Dean hummed, closing his eyes.

“Do you like belonging to me, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” Dean murmured, nuzzling Castiel’s chest.

Castiel hummed, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ve done quite a bit of thinking about your plan of care, and I’m confident that I’ve discovered the best course of action for you. As I’ve said before, some people need this for longer than others. I’m going to be here for as long as you need, and when the time comes that you feel...fulfilled, that contract can be terminated at any time.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that, considering he’d never wanted anything more in his life and he hadn’t even _really_ even gotten a good taste of it yet. He just laid there, eyes drifting closed as Castiel smoothed down his hair.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Castiel asked finally. Dean slid his hand up to Castiel’s chest, clutching at his shirt.

“When will we go to the den?” he asked softly, his heart jumping in his chest.

“Ever eager,” Castiel said, with the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. “Soon, sweet boy, but not today. Today is about establishing a connection and making you feel comfortable with me. By the end of today, I expect you to fully understand the sincerity and intensity of this relationship and the lengths I would go for you.”

“Hmm,” Dean opened his eyes reluctantly and glanced up at Castiel through his eyelashes. “How are you going to do that?”

Castiel didn’t answer, not that Dean really expected him to, and instead asked Dean a question.

“You enjoyed your breakfast,” Castiel murmured, not really phrasing it as a question but looking at Dean expectantly, raising a brow.

“Y-yes,” Dean’s cheeks flushed a soft pink and he licked his lips, shifting slightly. He was still slightly hard and the reminder had his blood rushing again. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a crepe before…”

“Mm,” Castiel watched him closely. “And you enjoyed me feeding it to you.”

“I-uh, yeah,” Dean cleared his throat. “I did, yes.”

“I noticed you became aroused,” Castiel said simply and Dean just couldn’t see how anyone could say those words with a straight face. “Why is that, do you think?”

“I...honestly have no idea,” Dean said sincerely. “I don’t have a food fetish or anything. I just...liked it.”

“Hm,” Castiel tilted his head. “Are you still hard?”

“Uh, well, I was okay…” Dean swallowed and his blush deepened. “But now we’re _talking_ about it.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Well... _yeah_ , kinda,” Dean said slowly. “I mean, it’s kinda embarrassing. You didn’t even touch me or anything, and I-”

“But you’re attracted to me. Sexually.”

“Y-yes...very.”

“Then I don’t understand why it’s embarrassing. It’s your body’s natural reaction. And it was an intimate act. Therefore, I should think it would be expected.”

Dean chewed his lip and tried to will away his blush before he started sweating through Castiel’s shirt. “I guess so.”

“Sit up for me, baby.”

Dean pushed himself up, allowing Castiel to sit up again on the end of the couch. He motioned Dean over to him and Dean moved to stand between his legs, clasping his hands nervously together in front of him.

“Take your clothes off.”

“T-take...my-”

Castiel raised a brow. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, raising shaky hands to grip the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head with one quick motion. He was about to toss it on the floor before he remembered what Castiel had told him about his clothes in the den, and he stopped, folding it instead, which seemed to please Castiel. He sat the shirt on the table, kicked off his shoes, and started on his belt buckle, then slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down and pulling them off, then folding them neatly as well. He took his socks off next and added them to the pile, then took a deep, steadying breath before finally pushing his boxers down and folding those, pointedly ignoring Castiel’s intense stare as he piled them on top of the rest of his clothes.

He stood there with his hands twitching by his sides as Castiel surveyed him carefully. Finally he leaned forward, laying his hands on Dean’s sides, just above his ribs, and sliding them down and along his thighs. Dean’s skin broke out in goosebumps and he shivered violently.

“Responsive,” Castiel observed. “That’s good. Now lay down here, pretty boy.” He tapped the couch next to him, and Dean laid down, resting his head on Castiel’s thigh.

He felt only a little awkward, stretched out with his cock bobbing between his thighs. Castiel’s thigh was warm to the back of his neck and his hand was firm, gentle, grounding on his cheek.

“I want to see you pleasure yourself,” Castiel said, his eyes flitting briefly to Dean’s cock.

Dean moved to reach down and grasp himself, but Castiel grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

“Not your way, my way,” Castiel clicked his tongue, smiling a little when Dean huffed softly. “I’m going to tell you what to do and you’re going to listen. You will only touch where and when I say, for how long I say. Understand?”

Dean inhaled shakily and nodded, his hands falling to his sides.

“Speak,” Castiel demanded. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy,” Dean said a bit breathlessly.

“Good boy,” Castiel smiled and Dean shivered, his cock twitching against his stomach. “We don’t have to rush anything, baby. We can take our time. Make this feel good for you. I want to watch you come all over yourself and I’m not even going to touch you.”

Dean’s face fell in disappointment and Castiel chuckled, soothing over his cheek with his hand.

“In time, sweet boy,” Castiel smiled. “We’ll get there. I promise. I want to get to know you first. Build up your trust in me. See how you respond and follow directions.”

Dean nodded, looking up at him.

“Are you comfortable?”

Dean settled back into the couch and stretched out his legs, his hands resting on his stomach. He looked up at Castiel again and nodded again. “Yes, daddy.”

Castiel smiled softly at him again, and laid a hand on Dean’s cheek, sliding down to cup his jaw and stroke his cheekbone with his thumb. “Good. Now, I want you to touch your pretty cock, baby.”

Dean took a breath and looked down, his hand shaking slightly with nerves as he reached down to grip himself. He felt Castiel tap his chin, and he pointed quickly to himself before caressing his jaw again.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, making a point to keep his eyes trained on Castiel even when he naturally wanted to look away.

“Now stroke yourself, slowly.” Castiel slid his hand down to Dean’s chest, his eyes flitting down to watch him. “Very good...that’s my good boy. I need you to be fully erect for this next part, so focus on getting yourself to that point, no further.”

“What part?” Dean asked, his throat dry.

“I’m going to have you show me what you learned from your homework,” Castiel said matter-of-factly, moving his hand across Dean’s chest and innocently over a pert nipple. “So I can analyze your technique.”

“My...technique…?” Dean stammered, twitching as his nipple was grazed again. His cock dribbled precum onto his stomach and Castiel smirked briefly.

“Your nipples are sensitive,” he observed, grazing the other one with his thumb.

“Yeah,” Dean gasped, his grip on himself tightening.

“Interesting,” Castiel murmured, taking a nub between his fingers and rolling it gently. Dean moaned and jerked, face flushed a bright red.

“Can you come like this?” Castiel asked curiously, watching Dean writhe with a frustratingly calm expression.

“I-I dunno,” Dean swallowed. “Never tried to.”

“Hm, another time then…” Castiel logged this information away and glanced at Dean’s cock, red and throbbing, and nodded in satisfaction. He fished out lube from his pocket and sat it on Dean’s chest.

“Show me how you opened yourself up, sweet boy,” Castiel cupped Dean’s jaw again, fingers stroking his neck. “Start with one finger. I’ll tell you when to add more.”

Dean grabbed the bottle with shaky hands and popped the cap open, slicking his fingers generously. He shifted awkwardly, trying to get into the best position to stretch himself open. Castiel noticed his struggling and hooked his hand behind one of Dean’s thighs, pulling it toward him and gripping behind his knee. Dean furrowed his brow as he reached down and circled his slick fingers around his hole, still stroking his cock slowly with his other hand.

“When you did this before, did you come with or without touching your cock?” Castiel asked, as easily as discussing the weather.

“W-with,” Dean stuttered, eyes fluttering shut as Castiel flicked a nipple again. A small slap on his cheek snapped them open again, hard enough to grab his attention but not hard enough to hurt, and Castiel held his chin as he looked down at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Eyes open and on me, boy,” he reminded him, then he softly stroked his cheek, slightly warm from the contact. “So you came while touching yourself?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Excellent. I want you to push yourself as close to orgasm as you can without coming, exactly like this. I want you to associate that good feeling with anal stimulation, because eventually, my dear boy, I expect you to come from my cock alone.”

Dean sucked in a breath, staring hard up at him as he finally pushed the tip of his first finger inside, hesitating momentarily as he adjusted.

“It takes practice,” Castiel continued, “but we’re in no rush.” His eyes moved from Dean’s down to watch him again, pressing his lips together and nodding slightly. “That’s good, sweet baby. You’re doing so well.”

Dean swallowed and shuddered, his heart rate kicking up a notch. His cock twitched, demanding attention from his still hand. Dean licked his lips and stroked slowly, dipping his finger in further. It was easier to stay aroused this time, Castiel’s presence and gaze the primary reason for this. He shifted and breathed deep as he wiggled his finger, stroking his clenching wall.

“Slide it out then back in,” Castiel instructed, watching intently, still looking as calm and as poised as ever. “Get some movement going.”

Dean obeyed, slowly sliding the finger out and carefully thrusting back in. He bit his lip, eyes sliding closed again-

He gasped as a sharp slap on his cheek jolted him, eyes snapping open.

“Eyes on me,” Castiel frowned down at him. “If I have to tell you again, I’ll have to punish you.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he swallowed, nodding jerkily and trying to push away the crushing disappointment in himself. Jesus, their first scene and he was already screwing up.

“Just beautiful,” Castiel murmured, sliding his hand down Dean’s chest, close enough to his cock that it was all Dean could do not to lean up into the touch. Dean kept his eyes trained on him as he stroked himself and slowly moved his finger in and out like Castiel asked, trying to do everything he was asked to distract himself from his watery eyes.

Castiel’s demeanor didn’t necessarily change when he looked back up, but he frowned, laying his hand against Dean’s cheek and stroking his chin with his thumb. “Hey...it’s okay. It’s a lot, I know, but you’re doing wonderfully, Dean. You’re making me very happy. Don't be discouraged.”

Dean nodded and shifted slightly as he pushed in a second finger, his nostrils flaring and mouth falling open with the stretch. Castiel’s eyes flitted back down and something resembling a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth before his hand fell back to Dean’s chest, stroking every so often over a nipple. Dean wanted to hear Castiel say more, the deep gravel of his voice always sending chills through his body and straight down to his cock, and he especially wanted to hear more about how _good_ he was being. He arched against the sofa, pushing his head back onto Castiel’s lap, whining slightly as he picked up the pace on his cock. It hit him that Castiel never explicitly told him when he could or couldn’t talk, and it wasn’t one of their situational rules for the current scene, either. He licked his lips and took a deep breath, meeting Castiel’s eyes when the man looked back up at him.

“Am I doing good, daddy?”

“Oh, yes, baby,” Castiel said a little breathlessly, smoothing down his hair. “So good for me. Let me show you just how good.” He wrapped his fingers around Dean’s hand, careful not to touch his cock, and moved it up over his head, pressing it to his crotch and pushing his fingertips down around the obvious outline of his thick cock. “You see, good boy? See what you’re doing to me?”

“ _Oh_ ,” Dean breathed, resisting the urge to close his eyes as he just lightly squeezed the impressive bulge. He’d only gotten a glimpse of Castiel those couple of years ago, the view from the door and the man’s rough movements making it difficult to get a good look. But he was feeling right now was big and thick, and he had serious doubts it would ever fit inside him. He was more than willing to try, though.

“I want it,” Dean whispered hoarsely, uncaring of how blatantly bratty he sounded. Castiel chuckled, amused, and gently pulled Dean’s hand away.

  
 “You earn that first, baby,” he raised a brow, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Show me how much you want my cock.”

Dean huffed and, at Castiel’s permission, added a third finger. He squirmed, breathing hard, scissoring his fingers and stretching himself slowly. His other hand returned to his cock reluctantly and he already missed Castiel’s girth. He stared up at Castiel, eyes pleading, mouth hanging open as he arched-

“No amount of begging will get you my cock any faster,” Castiel chided, patting at Dean’s cheek gently. “Even if you do look very good doing it.” He paused and licked his lips. “Naughty boy.”

    Dean shook his head, stroking himself faster, panting lightly.

    “No?”

    Dean shook his head again, arching against him, moving his fingers continuously in and out.

    Castiel hummed, tilting his head. “I suppose you’re right. You’re being a _very_ good boy, aren’t you?” He petted his hair gently, smirking as he reached for the bottle of lube. “Are you close, baby?”

    Dean nodded, slowing his pace again as Castiel’s voice and words threatened to push him over the edge if he thought too much about them.

    “Spread your legs a little wider, baby,” Castiel commanded, which Dean obeyed, and the man leaned over to carefully squirt more lube around his fingers, snapping the bottle closed again and tossing it onto the table in front of them as he straightened. He pulled one of Dean’s legs up again, squeezing slightly around his thigh. “Now I only want you to use one finger. Push it in and curl it up toward your navel.” He stroked Dean’s cheek with his free hand, pressing his thumb to his bottom lip.

    Dean shifted and withdrew two fingers, frowning slightly at the sudden empty feeling. He did as told, curling his finger upward and sucked in a breath, jerking against Castiel’s thigh. His eyes fluttered, but he kept them open and on the man above him, mouth falling open.

    “You should be grazing your prostate,” Castiel murmured, his face showing the first signs of his control slipping. He was flushed, eyes unblinking, mouth slightly ajar. “Feel it?”

    “Y-yes, daddy,” Dean gasped again and arched, trying desperately to get his finger deeper.

    “Good boy,” Castiel stroked his hair and pulled Dean’s leg a little more, exposing his hole and making Dean blush a bright red. “Beautiful, sweet boy. You’re close now?”

    Dean could only manage a nod, his finger moving rapidly, his cock leaking profusely. Castiel licked his lips and caressed Dean’s chest, sliding his fingers over a nipple, smiling when Dean groaned loudly.

    “It will be so much better when it’s my cock,” Castiel whispered close to his ear. “When you earn it, sweet boy, I’m going fuck that pretty little hole of yours.”

    Dean choked and squeezed his cock at the base to hold off his orgasm. Castiel splayed his hand across Dean’s chest and leaned over, eyes never leaving Dean’s.

    “Come for me, baby boy.”

    Dean pressed his finger deep and released his cock, his hand finding Castiel’s arm and gripping tight as he came hard. Streaks of cum splattered across his stomach while he trembled violently, gaze pleading as his breath hitched and a broken moan fell from his lips. Castiel watched as more cum leaked sluggishly from Dean’s cock as his orgasm began to subside, his chest rising and falling with each breath, lips parted. When he finally looked back into Dean’s eyes, his own were practically black with arousal.

    “So beautiful, my sweet baby,” Castiel praised, tweaking one of Dean’s nipples and giving a breathy laugh when Dean jerked and gasped. “Oh, you did so well, Dean. You’re a quick learner.”

    Dean blinked innocently up at him, writhing and stretching on the couch, pushing his head down against Castiel’s thigh. He turned his head and nuzzled his leg, pressing a few kisses there out of the side of his mouth.

    “Oh, yes,” Castiel said evenly, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. “You’re going to do beautifully with me, boy. You’ve pleased me very much.”

    Dean was a boneless, sated mass equivalent to a purring kitten. He turned on his side sluggishly, hugging his arms around Castiel’s thigh as he continued to nuzzle and kiss leisurely. Castiel stroked his hair, whispering praises, his other hand tracing up and down Dean’s back.

    “How do you feel, sweetheart?” Castiel asked after a while, massaging the back of Dean’s neck.

    “Mm, good,” Dean breathed, his eyes closed as he basked in the attention. “So good, daddy.”

    Castiel hummed, pleased, and straightened his back. “If you can unattach from me for a moment, my lovely little leech, I would like to clean you up now.”

    Dean grinned and let Castiel’s leg go. He watched him stand and disappear briefly into a small bathroom, coming out seconds later with a damp washcloth. Castiel sat and patted his thigh, Dean settling back on it and stretching out.

    Castiel smiled and pressed the cloth to Dean’s sticky belly. It was surprisingly warm and soft, and Dean sighed quietly.

    “Is this, uh, the aftercare?” Dean asked, eyes closed and his words slow, sluggish.

    “Part of it, yes,” Castiel said softly, carefully cleaning the mess on his stomach. He folded the cloth over and reached lower, and Dean would’ve blushed if he wasn’t so exhausted when Castiel cleaned the lube between his legs. He took Dean’s hand gently and wiped lube from there too, laying it back down on his chest.

    “What’s the rest?” Dean asked, forcing his heavy eyelids open to look up at Castiel.

    “Emotional support,” Castiel said simply, “praises, assurance. More so for scenes that are kink heavy, or more demeaning.” He tossed the cloth onto the table and took Dean’s hand, stroking his fingers. “So how are you feeling? Try to separate how you feel physically from how you feel emotionally.”

    “I feel…” Dean frowned, flexing his hand in Castiel’s, “important.”

    “Important.”

    “Yeah. Wanted. And…” he squeezed Castiel’s hand, “I feel proud, because you seem proud.”

    Castiel smiled. “I am very proud, baby. Very proud of you.”

    Dean felt a swell of affection bloom in his chest and he smiled up at Castiel. “Thank you, daddy.”

    “I think we will do very well together,” Castiel said with a nod, bringing Dean’s hand up to kiss at his fingers, then his knuckles. “This has given me a better idea of what you need, desire. And it also helped me discover these wonderfully sensitive nipples…” Castiel grazed one and chuckled when Dean twitched. “And a previously unknown kink.”

    The caused Dean pause and he blinked up at Castiel curiously. “What kink?”

    “Praise,” Castiel said simply.

    “Uh…” Dean tilted his head. “Praise is a kink?”

    “It is when one becomes aroused or otherwise...extremely pleased from it.”

    Dean cleared his throat and tongued his cheek. “Everyone likes to be praised.”

    “Yours is an extreme case,” Castiel said with a small shrug. “I observed you carefully anytime I praised you, told you how good you were. Your reactions were quite strong, both physically and emotionally. You became more aroused, more confident, more eager to please. As opposed to when you thought I was annoyed or disappointed with you...you became visibly upset.”

    “I feel like that’s a natural reaction.”

    “To a point, yes. And to be clear, I was never actually annoyed or disappointed in you,” Castiel added quickly, looking down at him. “Sometimes when people enter into one of these relationships they crave discipline, they crave pain, they _want_ punishment. I don’t think you have the same sort of masochism that many others have sought to quench with me.”

    Dean swallowed and fidgeted with Castiel’s hand. “I didn’t... _hate_ it. The, uh...you know…” He gestures vaguely to his face.

    “I know, but you also didn’t respond to it exactly the way I imagined. I’m not always right when it comes to my care plans. They take time to get just right, a lot of tweaking.” Castiel shrugged. “We can try that again sometime, when we’ve worked together for awhile longer and I’ve gained more of your trust.”

    Dean nodded and relaxed against Castiel’s lap again.

    “Did you have any questions for me at this point?”

    Dean paused and frowned, trying to think if there was anything he’d wanted to ask about. “Well...um. When you said I had to... _earn_ it, what did you...I mean, when-”

    Castiel chuckled and stroked Dean’s cheek gently. “Impatient, are we?”

    Dean blushed and shrugged. “I just want you, daddy.”

    “Mmm,” Castiel hummed, tapping his cheek with a finger. “Well, I admire your enthusiasm, but I have more assignments for you before we get there, sweetheart. But we _will_ get there. I promise.”

Dean tried to hide his disappointment, but at least he knew they’d get there eventually. He supposed there wasn’t any hurry and he didn’t want to disappoint his Dom with annoying impatience. Dean would be good and obey, trust that Castiel will take care of him.

“Will it hurt?” Dean asked, glancing up at him.

Castiel pressed his lips together and tilted his head. “Yes and no…” he said slowly. “The first time is always a little uncomfortable at first, no matter how much time you spend prepping. If I do my job right, you will forget whatever discomfort you feel fairly quickly. And before long, you will be craving the feeling of me inside you.”

Dean blushed and swallowed, eyes glazing over slightly. “What, uh…” he cleared his throat. “What assignments are you gonna give me?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t spoil it for you,” Castiel smirked, winking down at him. “I’ll keep them a surprise for now.” He brushed a hand over Dean’s hair. “Are you cold?”

Dean shook his head.

“Hungry?”

“No, daddy.”

“Well, I’m going to go get you a glass of water, then put you in the bath.” He lifted Dean off his lap, giving him one of the couch pillows instead to rest under his head, then kissed him on the forehead. He left silently, leaving Dean laying on the couch and watching the gas logs crackle, giving him the opportunity to really _feel_ the aftermath of his pleasure, the exhaustion and pleasant hum just under his skin. When Castiel returned he helped sit Dean back up and handed him the glass of water, which he insisted Dean drink all of before he would take the glass back. Dean downed the whole glass easily and looked up at Castiel through his lashes as he handed the glass back.

“That’s my good boy,” Castiel murmured, helping Dean to his feet and gripping the back of his neck as he pulled him forward, kissing his forehead again. “Now, come. I have the upstairs bathroom better equipped for you.”

Dean let Castiel lead him upstairs and he held his breath as they entered the den, but Castiel took him directly to the other door, guiding him through and shutting it behind them. Dean’s eyes widened slightly as he surveyed the large bathroom, while Castiel’s eyes were on him.

There was a pristine white clawfoot tub in the middle of the room, with a toilet in the far corner and double sinks in the opposite corner of the same wall, with a decently large rustic cabinet with double doors situated between them. The floors were grayish brown tiles that resembled hardwood, and the walls were adorned with large dark gray tiles from floor to ceiling. The far wall was lined with shelving that held plush linens, and on the wall beside the far door was a hook that held plush white robes, with several pairs of white slippers sitting underneath, reminding Dean of a fancy hotel or spa.

“What’s through that door?” he asked, looking back at Castiel.

“My bedroom,” Castiel said, touching Dean gently on the arm before moving around him to start the water in the tub. He held his hand under the water until he deemed it warm enough, then crossed over to the cabinet, pulling out a loofah and a couple of small bottles. “These are epsom salt and lavender oil,” he explained. “Both are used for relaxation, but you’ll see me using the salt often, as it helps to soothe sore muscles.”

Castiel poured both into the water and helped Dean inside, stroking his hair as he leaned back. “I’m not very sore,” Dean admitted, leaning into the touch with a small sigh. He could definitely get used to this. He’s never had anyone dote on him before.

“Yes, but future scenes _will_ leave you sore,” Castiel murmured, dripping some oil onto the loofah and pulling a chair over from the wall to sit in. “Sometimes very sore. In any case, this is how I will take care of you after scenes, whether you’re sore or not. It’s a good way to get you relaxed, warm, comfortable. We can talk about the scene, what went right or wrong…”

“Will things go wrong?” Dean blinked up at him, shivering as Castiel scrubbed the loofah over his chest.

“Sometimes, possibly,” Castiel nodded. “It’s almost inevitable. Humans, by nature, are unpredictable and highly emotional creatures. Scenes are intense, intimate, at times demeaning to the Submissive. If the Sub, or the Dom even, is not in the right state of mind when entering the scene...yes, things can go wrong.”

“...oh.”

“If you are ever in a state in which you feel it will _not_ be beneficial for you to complete a scene, I expect you to be open with me, and I can assist you otherwise or tweak the scene planned, depending on the situation. Sometimes scenes can help to clear the mind, heal or relieve whatever is causing you distress, but sometimes they can just further harm the Sub’s state of mind. So I rely on you to be honest and open with me so I can properly care for you.” Castiel laid his hand on Dean’s neck and dragged the loofah up his chest and across his shoulder, then down his arm. “I don’t want to hurt you in any way, Dean. Outside of your determined limits, of course.”

Dean shivered again, and he couldn’t tell if it was the gentle ministrations of the loofah over his skin, Castiel’s words, or his actual voice. Castiel slid the loofah back down his chest and dipped it just below the water as he scrubbed his stomach, and Dean felt him press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Why did you decide to become a Dom?” Dean asked, the question slipping out before had the good sense to stop it.

“It was a time in my life that I craved control,” Castiel said simply, “and at that time, this was the only way I could get it.”

“Yes, but...why?”

Castiel paused briefly and Dean froze, wondering if perhaps he’d pushed a little too far. But Castiel finally chuckled softly and wrung the loofah out over Dean’s chest.

“That’s a story for another time, beautiful boy.”

Dean wasn’t surprised by that response and hummed, closing his eyes as Castiel dipped the loofah below the water. Castiel was extremely private. For how open he was about a BDSM relationship and all the details that went with it, he was equally closed off about his life and even his business. Aside from overhearing conversations with John, Castiel has never spoken to Dean about details of his life or work. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Where is your mind?”

Castiel’s voice took him from his thoughts and Dean blinked at him.

“I don’t know much about you,” he said, glancing down when Castiel grazed the loofah across his thigh.

“Well, I don’t offer much information about myself to many,” Castiel shrugged. “I prefer to keep to myself most of the time.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” Dean frowned, watching him curiously. “To not have anyone close to you...that knows you well enough that you can talk to them about whatever? Even just one person to share anything with…”

Castiel never stopped bathing him, but his jaw set in a hard line briefly before he tilted his head and licked his lips, clearing his throat. “No. No, it doesn’t get...lonely. I’m not the type to crave that sort of relationship, or connection, with other people or really, with the outside world in general. I keep to myself, I keep my head down, I do my job and I come home...where I feel comfortable, and where I can be myself. The less others know about me, the better.”

“That... _sounds_ lonely.”

Castiel presses his lips together. “I actually quite prefer it.”

Dean’s frown deepened, and he watched Castiel for any signs of...anything else, but found nothing other than a carefully constructed mask that made it impossible to tell if he was being truthful or not. Dean suspected all he said was truthful, considering their agreement, but there are always ways to not necessarily tell the whole truth, even when speaking truthful statements.

Castiel leaned over him, his face only inches from Dean’s as he swiped the loofah over his legs, his stomach, up to his chest and back down to his pelvis. Dean swallowed hard and, against his better judgement, reached up, his fingertips barely brushing the stubble on Castiel’s cheek. Castiel reflexively reached up and grabbed his wrist, quick enough to make Dean jump, cutting his eyes over to him, his nostrils flaring slightly. Dean watched him carefully, his eyes scanning Castiel’s features, which slowly softened by the second, although he remained fairly stiff overall. He relaxed his hold on Dean’s wrist marginally, giving him the opportunity to touch him for a few brief seconds before slowly lowering his hand back to the water. He wordlessly continued to bathe Dean, a weird tension falling over the silence of the room, not unlike the usual tension but with an extra _something_ mixed in.

Dean opened his mouth several times to say something- anything- but found it best to keep his words to himself. Obviously his questioning made Castiel uncomfortable at best, if not outright angry, and Dean didn’t want to make it worse. None of it was his business anyway, although a very small part of him thought it unfair that Castiel knew so much about him. After all, Dean was putting himself in a vulnerable position. Shouldn’t he know a little more about the man to whom he was entrusting himself with?

Dean clenched his jaw and buried that line of thought. They’d barely begun. There was plenty of time to get to know Castiel. Perhaps if he showed him how good a Sub he was, Castiel would start to lower his guard.

The bath was over before Dean knew it and Castiel silently helped him out of the tub. He stood still as he was patted dry with a towel then given one of the fluffy robes to wrap up in. Dean sat and watched Castiel drain the tub and wash away any excess salt and oil. Dean fidgeted, unsure of what was expected of him now. Were they done? Was he supposed to leave now? He didn’t want to leave. He liked it here, liked being with Castiel.

“Do I...have to go home now?” he asked hopefully, clenching his hands in his lap.

Castiel looked up from the tub, furrowing his brow, his eyes turned down in the corners. “Of course not, baby. Not if you don’t want to.”

Dean looked down at his lap. “I’d like to stay.”

“Then you’ll stay.”

Dean looked back up at Castiel as the man got to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest again as he approached him and leaned down, taking his face between his hands.

“Besides, John believes you’re here working for me. Surely he expects that what I have planned for you will take more than a couple of hours.” Castiel quirked a smile, thumbing at Dean’s bottom lip.

Dean mouthed at his thumb, that affection swelling in his chest again at Castiel’s genuine smile. “Are we done for today?”

“Yes.”

“But what if I don’t want to be?”

Castiel chuckled, standing up and taking Dean’s hand between his own, giving it a squeeze before leading him back out of the bathroom, through the den and down the steps. “Small steps, sweet boy. Don’t get greedy. This is not something you want to overindulge in.”

Dean laughed and tilted his head at Castiel, who’d barely given any indication that he was making a joke. “But what if it is?”

Castiel hummed, eyeing him closely. “I’m not so sure I can keep up with a teenage boy’s libido as easily anymore. Best to keep things at my pace.” He smirked. “Today was an easy day, boy. Things will progress quickly, and you’ll be glad I eased you in like this.”

They settled into the small living room, which Castiel told him was technically a sitting room. Dean didn’t know the difference, but it had a tv so that was all he needed. He curled up next to Castiel, robe sliding down his shoulder and half open as he laid his head on Castiel’s thigh. He nuzzled it with a sigh and blinked when Castiel switched on the tv and grabbed a stack of papers and his glasses. He slipped them on, grabbed his pen, and handed the remote to Dean in silent permission to pick whatever he wanted. Dean blinked at the stack of papers and assumed it was for work, therefore not asking about them. He didn’t want to recreate the tension from before and decided if Castiel wanted to talk about work, he would.

Dean surfed through the channels and realized he hadn't really  _watched_ tv in years. He never had the time anymore. He didn’t recognize half the shows on and most of them looked stupid anyway. He finally settled on something called _Supernatural_ and half dozed, Castiel’s hand in his hair when he wasn’t scribbling something with his pen. It was weirdly intimate, what they were doing. Almost more than what they did before. They were behaving like a couple, or at least more than just two people with a business arrangement. Dean was wise and kept his mouth shut, not wanting to break the spell. The soft intimacy made his chest swell with warmth and he hugged closer to Castiel, nuzzling again.

“What are we watching?” Castiel asked, not looking up from his work.

“Mm,” Dean shrugged, blinking at the screen. “Somethin’ about two brothers and a gay angel.”

Castiel frowned and glanced up. “A gay angel?”

“I mean, they don’t _say_ he’s gay,” Dean shrugged again. “But, he’s pretty weird. Stares at one of the brothers a lot.”

“Weird and staring does not constitute gay,” Castiel mumbled, looking back down at his paper and frowning.

“Well, you’re weird and stare,” Dean smirked. Castiel paused and blinked.

“Point taken,” Castiel nodded in concession. “However, I’m not gay. I don’t experience sexual attraction based on one’s gender. I’m attracted to people whose needs I can fulfill, and who can fulfill mine in return. Gender is not a factor that influences my interest.”

Dean frowned. “Well, all I know is I find guys hot. I find girls hot. I find you...very hot.” He looked up at Castiel, who smirked behind his paperwork. “Everyone’s hot.”

Castiel chuckled and flexed his hand in Dean’s hair. “Are you comfortable?”

Dean turned back to the tv and rubbed his cheek against Castiel’s thigh. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good, baby. If you get hungry or anything, let me know.”

Dean nodded and stared ahead at the tv, resting a hand on Castiel’s thigh beside his face. Castiel’s hand in his hair and the low drone of the tv eventually lulled him into a restful sleep.

\----

    He was still in the same position when he woke an indeterminate amount of time later, Castiel’s papers abandoned as he instead watched whatever was on tv now. He looked down when Dean stirred and smiled, stroking his cheek with a thumb.

    “Sleep well?”

    Dean nodded and slowly sat, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “How long was I out?”

    “Couple of hours,” Castiel said.

    “ _Really_? I’m so sorry...you sat like that the whole time?”

    Castiel shrugged. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” He stood and stretched, helping Dean to his feet as well and straightening the robe that kept trying to slide off his shoulders. “Hungry now?”

Dean nodded and Castiel smiled, taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. He took his spot on the counter, swinging his legs as Castiel set about making lunch. He dug out fresh vegetables and sliced them up expertly, and Dean wasn’t all that surprised since the man apparently used knives on humans. For  _pleasure._ He’d have to be good with them.

“Do you like cooking?” Dean asked.

Castiel hummed as he dumped sliced cucumbers into a large bowl, moving onto cherry tomatoes. “For other people, yes. Not so much myself. I tend to order in or snack if I’m by myself.” He looked up and raised a brow. “Do _you_ enjoy cooking?”

“Ah, used to,” Dean shrugged, fiddling with the sleeve of his robe. “Sometimes I still do. I dunno...I’m always the one who cooks at home. Gets kinda old after a while. And by the time I get to eat it’s probably cold. Sometimes I don’t eat at all.”

Castiel gave him a sharp look and frowned. “You shouldn’t skip meals, boy.”

Dean ducked his head slightly and bit his lip. “I just...forget. Or don’t have time.”

“You need three meals a day,” Castiel said firmly, dumping the sliced cherry tomatoes in the bowl along with the cucumbers. “Especially if you’re going to be my Sub. You’ll need the strength.”

“Well, I’ll at least get fed here.” Dean meant it as a joke, but Castiel paused and considered that.

“Perhaps I should make some meals for you to take home,” he said thoughtfully. “That way I know you’re getting enough. I don’t like the idea of you skipping a meal.”

“I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Castiel huffed. “And your dad shouldn’t be okay with it either.”

“I don’t think he really knows-”

“It’s incredibly important that you eat three well-rounded meals a day and snacks in between. If you do not get the proper calorie intake or skip meals, I will be forced to deny you a scene.” Castiel stopped and turned to Dean, crossing his arms. “And before you consider lying about it, know that failure to adhere to a healthy diet before scenes could potentially cause you to lose consciousness or become sick. Not only would you be putting yourself at risk, but you will be subject to punishment once you are well enough to participate again. I’m not above nursing you back to health so I can take you apart again myself.”

Dean’s grip on the counter tightened and he nodded stiffly, swallowing hard. Castiel’s jaw was set, his stare intense and serious, shoulders squared in a straight line. Dean looked at him with wide eyes turned down in the corners, subconsciously leaning toward him.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll behave.”

Castiel’s face softened marginally and he gave Dean a look that had lost most of its heat, before turning back to the food.

Castiel whipped up a salad and grilled fish, which Dean hadn't been too sure about since the only time he had fish was between two buns from a McDonald’s drive-thru window. But after one bite he decide to never doubt Castiel again. It was seasoned perfectly and hardly tasted like fish anyway. Castiel fed him slowly as he did before, watching Dean’s every bite and standing close enough to distract Dean more than a few times. His legs found their way around Castiel’s waist, but he didn’t seem to mind so Dean happily kept them there, enjoying the way it felt to have Castiel between his thighs.

Halfway through Castiel looked down and hummed at the erection jutting up against Dean’s robe.

“You know,” he started conversationally, “you’re the first Sub to become this aroused by being fed.”

Dean swallowed his bite and licked his lips. “Is that bad?”

“Not at all,” Castiel shook his head. “It’s rather interesting, though. My past Subs would get a little heated with hand-feeding, but…”

“Hand-feeding,” Dean repeated, tilting his head. “How is that different from what you’re doing now?”

Castiel didn’t answer, instead picking up a cucumber with his fingers and holding it to Dean’s lips. Dean’s eyes widened fractionally and he parted his lips, breath hitching when Castiel gently slid the slice inside. It was odd mixture of cool cucumber and warm fingers pressing against his tongue. Castiel kept his fingers pressed to Dean’s lips as he chewed and smiled briefly when Dean lapped at them after swallowing.

“More, please.”

Castiel quirked a smile and picked up a piece of tomato this time, slowly running it over Dean’s bottom lip before pushing it inside. Dean closed his eyes and hummed softly as he chewed, then sucked the juice from Castiel’s fingers and licked it from his lips.

“Yeah, I can _definitely_ see why that affected your past, uh...people,” Dean said finally, looking back at Castiel. “I like it. A lot.”

“Good,” Castiel said softly, brushing his fingertips against Dean’s jaw. “I quite enjoy doing it.”

Dean had to consciously keep himself from leaning forward into Castiel’s space and pressing their lips together. He leaned back against the counter, pointedly eyeing the food, and Castiel cleared his throat and pulled back as well, taking the plate of fish in his hand and feeding Dean another forkful. The rest of the meal was spend in a tense- but not unpleasant- silence, and Castiel quickly cleaned up after they were finished, putting the leftovers in a container for Dean to take with him for dinner.

Castiel led him back into the sitting room after lunch, sitting down with his laptop this time and giving Dean a pillow to lay out beside him since his lap was occupied.

“You always gotta work on the weekend?” Dean murmured after a while, glancing at Castiel.

“Mmm, usually a little,” Castiel sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Comes with running a company. I’m afraid I may spend too much time doing the hands-on stuff and not enough time in my office, doing…” he waved his hand on the laptop, “this.”

Dean chuckled and shifted onto his back, robe slipping open a little as he stretched out. “I can see that. You don’t seem like the pencil pusher type.”

“I do miss the physical part of the job,” Castiel nodded, pausing and cracking his knuckles that had gone stiff from typing. “I find more enjoyment in building the equipment...the software, the hardware...putting it all together and watch it come to life.”

Dean nodded in understanding. “Started building computers before I could even see over the wheel of the car. It’s addicting. Every time I finished one I’d start planning another. Better, faster, sleeker…”

Castiel smiled and looked over at him, glancing down at Dean’s exposed torso briefly. “How many have you built?”

Dean snorted. “Lost count. Sometimes I don’t finish before I start a new one. I’ve sold a few to friends...built one for Sam once.”

“How do you get parts?”

Dean scratched his cheek and shrugged. “I build most of the major parts...whatever else I use my garage money to buy.”

“And you write the programs?” Castiel raised a brow.

“Sometimes,” Dean tilted his head. “I’ve started writing my own OS, but...I don’t have much time to work on it.”

“Mmm,” Castiel nodded, smiling as he reached down to run his hand through Dean’s hair. “Smart boy.”

Dean blushes. “Nah, it’s just...just a hobby-”

“No, don’t downplay it. That’s not a hobby one just decides to do one day. It takes time, patience, intelligence. Not just anyone can do it.” Castiel chewed his lip and took off his glasses, pausing a moment before motioning Dean over. “What I do now...it’s not exactly the same as that kind of thing, which is where my true passion lies, but…” he shrugged, “interesting, nonetheless. I work more now with technical machine design, as opposed to electrical.”

Dean frowned and sat, leaning in close as Castiel pointed out a generated drawing on his laptop. “At Hoppmann...well, you know. Your dad’s worked there for many years. Surely he’s shown you around, shown you the types of machinery we build. My job is technically supposed to just be overseeing projects, but I like to try my hand at projects of my own, if my time allows. This,” he zooms out to show the whole drawing and traces lines of the machine with the earpiece of his glasses, “is for a company that’s looking for a system to run and stack sponges. So you see here, we dump the parts into this machine, which conveys it into this bowl, and the mixture of our technical and electrical machining will orient the product out onto these conveyors end to end, right side up. We have a custom-built stacker that accumulates the sponges and stacks them in sets of three, which, will then be packaged as such.”

“That seems...kind of involved for a simple side project.”

Castiel frowned at his computer. “I suppose I _may_ have bitten off a little more than I can chew.” He sighed. “But at least the drawing is about finished, then it’ll be up to my guys to get her built. And I’ll only have to...oversee, from then on. Which I do already.”

Dean nodded and pointed at one of the parts of the machine, careful not to put fingerprints on Castiel’s laptop screen. “So all the magic happens in there, huh?”

Castiel chuckled and tilted his head to the side. “Depends on who you ask, but in my opinion, it’s by far the most interesting part to watch.” He clicked on the round machine and somehow maneuvered the drawing to where they could view the inside without covers, pointing out particular metal pieces he called “tooling”.

“These are air jets, which help to either move the product along the bowl or blow it off, if it’s not facing the right direction. Or reject it, if the product is damaged or has any kind of imperfections. This is a sensor, which lets the machine know if the bowl is too full, so that it can detect a jam before it happens. This is a guide, to ensure the product goes onto the conveyor properly.” He paused, dropping his hand to his lap and looking over at Dean. “I’m boring you, aren’t I? I forget this stuff isn’t interesting to everyone. Especially someone whose fascination is _computers_ , which is...much different, I’m afraid.”

“You aren’t boring me,” Dean said sincerely, smiling at Castiel shyly. “It may not be my...area, but it’s still interesting. Plus,” he shrugged and leaned his shoulder against Castiel’s, nudging him gently. “It’s cool, listening to you talk about this stuff. You get excited. It’s always cute when people talk about something they’re passionate about.”

“I’m not cute,” Castiel protested.

“Mm, yeah, you are,” Dean smirked. “With your glasses and your sexy computer talk. Very cute.”

“What do my glasses have to do with anything?”

“Uh, they’re hot,” Dean said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, even rolling his eyes. “You got the whole smoldering nerd thing goin’ on. Complete that with a whip, which I’m sure you have, and you’re the ultimate wet dream.”

“I don’t have a whip, per se,” Castiel huffed indignantly. “I have a flogger.”

“Still hot.”

“So do you have wet dreams about me?” Castiel smirked, a sparkle in his eye.

“Stupid question,” Dean snorted. “Of course I do. You’ve been my own personal porn star since that damn party.”

“Oh?” Castiel raised an eyebrow, shutting his laptop and sitting it on the coffee table. He leaned back, throwing his arm over the back of the couch and pulling one leg up, facing Dean. “Tell me a little bit about these dreams.”

Dean snapped his mouth closed, because there was absolutely _no way_ he was going to tell Castiel about the things his prepubescent mind had conjured up about him, even if they were likely mild compared to what Castiel had in store for him now.

“Well, you were... _very_ hot,” Dean admitted, hoping the compliment would distract Castiel from details, but the man barely reacted. “And, uh...well, the one thing was...they always ended the same.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Either with me having to leave abruptly for something to do with Sam, or...my dad finding out.”

Castiel hummed and nodded, propping his head up with a fist and furrowing his brow. “Is that a fear you have now?”

Dean swallowed. “Yeah. I mean, dad doesn’t even know I...he doesn’t know I like anyone other than girls, and, um. He definitely doesn’t know how I feel about you.” He huffed a laugh. “He never seemed to notice, actually, even when I felt like it was pretty obvious, so…” he frowned and looked up at Castiel. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“Before...this?” he gestured between them.

“Yeah. Well, before you said that thing that night, about the looks I was apparently giving you.”

“Of course I knew.” Castiel gave him a small smile, reaching forward to stroke his chin. “You’re not entirely subtle, my dear boy.”

“I was 16,” Dean mumbled, unable to help himself as he leaned into the touch. “Subtle wasn’t exactly in my vocabulary.”

“Still isn’t,” Castiel chuckled, leaning back. “The looks you give are still going to get you into trouble.”

Dean licked his lips and shifted, spreading his legs just a bit. “Kinda thought that was part of the fun now.”

“Close those legs, boy,” Castiel said darkly, eyes sharp. “Don’t try to tempt me.”

Dean bit his lip and shifted his legs, closing the gap with a small sigh. “Shouldn’t make a guytalk about sex dreams then expect him to behave.”

“I expect you to behave around me always,” Castiel said evenly, fingers twitching on the couch. He paused and licked his lips, eyes flitting over Dean’s form. “However much I find your eagerness...arousing.”

Dean groaned. “That was kind of the _point_.”

Castiel scrubbed a hand down his mouth, tapping his finger against his chin. “I’ve learned a lot about you today, Dean Winchester.”

Dean raised a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes.” Castiel briefly quirked a smile, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. “I’ve learned my sweet boy is woefully touch-starved, is a wonderful candidate for nipple play, and is shaping up to be a bit of a bratty Sub. But that’s okay.” He leaned forward and gripped Dean’s chin tightly between his fingers, tilting his head at him. “Those are some of my favorite cases.”

Dean swallowed hard, eyes widened and scanning Castiel’s. “You...learned that in a day?”

“Among other things. I’m fairly good at reading people.”

“You think I’m bratty?”

Castiel released his chin and sat back, expression as such that Dean couldn’t tell if he was mad or not. “I _know_ you’re bratty.”

“That...doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

Castiel hummed and shrugged. “For me, it’s a very good thing. I know how to handle bratty subs. It requires some of my favorite types of play.”

“Like what?”

Castiel didn’t answer of course and Dean sighed, not surprised but still disappointed anyway.

“You’re frustrating,” Dean huffed, resting his head back onto the pillow and pointedly turning to the tv.

“Ah, good,” Castiel smirked. “That will further fuel the brattiness. A delicious circle.”

Dean rolled his eyes and absolutely didn’t feel a flutter in his chest when Castiel’s hand squeezed his, then rested on his head to stroke his hair.

“Did it...freak you out at all?” Dean murmured quietly, staring at the tv.

Castiel’s hand paused. “Did what freak me out?”

“Knowing a kid wanted you,” Dean shrugged. “The _looks_ I gave you.”

“No, of course not,” Castiel said softly. “Like I said, I didn’t see you that way, regardless of knowing how you felt about me. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear, necessarily, but…”

“No, I get it. It’s fine. It’s good.”

Castiel ran his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded as he resumed stroking Dean’s hair.

“You never made me feel...weird, or anything. Well...I mean, I felt _weird_ around you, but that was on me, because I was a dumb horny kid trying to figure out why I was popping boners for a _guy,_ and not only that, but one old enough to be my dad.” He propped himself up to look at Castiel. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“But you gave me very little to work with. I never once got the idea you were interested.”

“Because I wasn’t-”

“Yeah, okay, Cas, you’ve made your point.” Dean flopped back down and faced the tv with a huff.

There were a million more questions Dean wanted to ask him but he didn’t want to push things, so he laid there silently while Castiel rubbed his hair, his cheek, his chest. When it was time for him to go home, Dean found himself strangely exhilarated, rested, and fulfilled in a way he can’t ever remember feeling. Castiel bid him farewell with a simple kiss on the forehead, and he watched intently from the door with his arms crossed over his chest until Dean was in his car and had pulled out of sight.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy a chapter full of sexual tension and delicious smut

“He work you hard, son?”

Dean practically jumped out of his skin when he walked through the door, his father’s voice jarring to his otherwise peaceful state of mind- something he never thought he’d feel. 

“Uh, ah, yeah,” he stuttered, blushing as he ducked into the kitchen. Yeah,  _ real _ hard.

“He must’ve,” John continued, following his son into the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. “You were there half the day.”

“He’s just...very particular,” Dean cleared his throat as he set about preparing for dinner. “You know. Picky. Likes things done a certain way.”

“Oh, I know,” John chuckled. “I work for him, remember? He’ll work you to the bone, too.” He frowned and gestured his beer at Dean. “You make sure this doesn’t take too much time away from school or your responsibilities here, okay? And your job at Bobby’s comes first, too.”

“Yeah, dad, I got it,” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes when John shuffled back into the living room. 

Dean was deciding what to do with the ground meat they had when there was a knock at the door. Charlie burst in seconds later, waving hi to John and walking straight into the kitchen. Dean didn’t even look up, frowning at the cabinets. Spaghetti, maybe?

“Dude,” Charlie hopped up on the counter. “You’ve been gone all day.”

“Was workin’,” Dean grunted, pulling out a box of angel hair and a jar of Ragu. 

“Uh huh…” Charlie leaned closer, raising a brow. “With the hottie, right?”

“Sure.”

She huffed. “You’re such a  _ guy _ sometimes.”

Dean smiled to himself as he filled a pot with water and sat it on the stove, setting the burner to high. He sat the pasta to the side while he waited for it to boil and set about browning the beef. 

“So really, now that the other guys aren’t around...what’s been  _ with  _ you lately? And don’t you dare say nothing!” she exclaimed quickly, holding her hand up to Dean’s mouth when he tried to say just that. “I’ve known you for years, longer than all those other guys, and I’ve never,  _ never  _ seen you as spun out as you have been lately. What is going on?”

“Charlie, I’m fine,” Dean muttered, shrugging as he broke up the beef with a spatula. “Just been busy, that’s all.”

“Did one of us make you mad?”

Dean sighed. “No.”

“Is it something to do with Lisa?” Charlie asked anyway, then sucked in a loud breath, giving John- who’d looked over from the living room in concern- a small smile and an awkward dismissive wave. She looked back to Dean and smacked his arm, whispering harshly: “She’s not  _ pregnant _ or anything, is she?!”

“What? No!” Dean said quickly, shaking his head. “Listen, I don’t know how many more ways I can tell you that I’m fine.”

“Okay, well I can only assume if you’re not mad at one of us, and it’s not an issue with Lisa, then your uncharacteristic weirdness has something to do with Mr. Heartthrob from last night.”

“Charlie, I really don’t-”

“Dean, come on,” Charlie softened her voice, casting a quick glance at the living room. “You used to tell me everything. What’s going on?”

Dean sighed and poured in the noodles as the water began to boil. He popped open the sauce, poured it over the meat, set the eye on low and turned to Charlie.

“I haven’t told you everything,” he finally muttered lowly, fiddling with a washcloth sitting on the counter. 

“Okay,” Charlie said slowly, leaning even closer. 

“Me and, uh...Mr. Heartthrob…” Dean murmured, blushing, refusing to meet Charlie’s gaze. “Are, uh, we’re...maybe a thing.”

“A thing.”

“Yeah, like…” Dean shrugged and cleared his throat. “A  _ thing _ . Together. With the...sex.”

“You-” Charlie snapped her mouth shut and leaned back, eyebrows furrowing as she worked through the information. “But he’s...your…”

“Yeah,” Dean bit his lip. “Truth is, I’ve known for a long time that I, uh...play for both teams. And like you said...he’s really hot.”

“Honestly, Dean, the only thing that’s news to me is that you’re-” she shot a look to the living room again then back to Dean, voice barely above a whispering, “apparently getting it on with your dad’s boss? And I’m just now finding out? What the fuck-”

“Wait, you didn’t-?”

“Oh, _ god _ , Dean,” Charlie rolled her eyes, “It’s not obvious in the sense that those two dumbasses we hang out with can see it, but me? I just, you know, figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But I didn’t expect  _ this  _ to be the way you discovered it, I mean, even if I honestly can’t think of a better way…”

“Alright, alright,” Dean waved a hand, stirring the sauce as he felt his cheeks redden.

“So have you actually-”

“No,” Dean said quickly, glancing over to the living room. “No, not yet.”

“How did this even happen?”

“It’s a...long story,” Dean said with a huff, shaking his head. 

“So you don’t actually have a new job, do you?”

Dean hummed, tilting his head back and forth. “No, not exactly. I mean, he does know a lot about computers and machines and stuff, so maybe I could ask him to show me a few things, but as far as that maintenance work I told dad...total bullshit.”

“So you lied to your dad about a new job so you could go get laid?” Charlie grinned widely, flipping some of her hair behind her shoulder.

“Basically.”

Charlie giggled, rocking back and forth on the counter. John shot her a look and she gave him an apologetic one in return, finally hopping down off the counter. “Well, good for you. It’s about time you did something for yourself, anyway.”

Dean shrugged and nodded. It made it a little easier, having Charlie know one of his biggest secrets, even if he didn’t tell her the whole situation between him and Castiel. It did worry him, however, that she’d known about his preferences before he ever told her, and he vaguely wondered if he was that obvious to everyone else.

“So, how long?” Charlie asked, keeping her voice low.

“How long what?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “How long have you and Mr. Sex-On-Legs been…?”

“That’s...complicated,” Dean shrugged, stirring the meat sauce. “If you mean sexually, today was our first...thing. But we’d been, uh, discussing it for a few days.”

“How formal,” Charlie snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning her hip on the counter.

“Well, Castiel is a businessman. He just likes having his ducks in a row before…”

“Before he fucks one of his employee’s sons?” Charlie smirked and dodged when Dean tried to smack her.

“Will you keep it down?” Dean hissed, glancing into the living room. 

“Sorry, just...this is kind of wild for you,” Charlie raised her brow. “He’s easily twice your age, you’re barely legal, you’re  _ lying _ to go see him. It’s not something I expected out of  _ you _ . I’m entitled to be a little shocked.”

“Just keep it to yourself, okay?” Dean sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “He doesn’t want his private life out there for everyone to know. Not to mention it could get pretty...awkward if my dad found out.”

“He’d fucking kill you!” Charlie laughed. “Oh...could you imagine how embarrassed he’d be?!”

“Not helping…”

“I'm just sayin’,” Charlie shrugged, her arms crossed over her chest. “Bet that makes it exciting though, huh? Keeping a secret like that. How is he, anyway?”

Dean scoffed. “What do you care, you useless lesbian?”

“I like gossip, okay?”

Dean sighed. “I don't… know yet.”

“But you said-”

“Yeah, I said it started today, but I didn't say what we started _with_.” Dean cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the stove. He pulled the pot of boiling noodles off the burner and drained the water, sitting the pot to the side before adding some spices to the sauce. 

“I still can't believe it,” Charlie shook her head. “I mean, of all the things for you to be doing in _ secret _ , I never imagined it'd be an older _ guy _ . So how'd it come about?”

“Like I said, long story,” Dean grunted as he went over to the freezer and grabbed a box of garlic bread.

“I got time,” Charlie plopped down in a chair and crossed her legs, looking up at him expectantly. Dean sighed as he placed six slices of bread on a pan.

“Met him when I was about 16,” Dean started, but was interrupted by Charlie’s gasp.

“Dean, did he  _ touch _ you when-”

“For fuck sake, no!” Dean hissed, glaring at her. “Shut up and let me tell the story.”

Charlie showed her palms in surrender, leaning back in the chair.

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Dean continued with a huff. “Dad had dragged us to his new boss’s party. He wanted to pull the whole sympathy card on Castiel. You know, single dad with two sons. Wanted more money.”

“Wow,” Charlie snorted. “How noble.”

Dean shrugged as he popped the bread into the oven. “Can’t blame him. He was gettin’ paid shit before Castiel came along. I woulda done the same.” He turned and propped himself against the counter, hands clasping the edge. “We were the only kids there, of course, so we got pretty bored. I mostly stuffed my face with free food and poked around the house. First conversation with him was in his backyard by his pool...he was smoking and avoiding his party.”

“Why?”

“He’s a loner,” Dean quirked a smile. “Doesn’t like a lot of people. Anyway...we were about to leave. I went to go find Sammy and...uh, well. I found Castiel fucking the receptionist instead.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? That’s so cliche.” 

Dean chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, well, to a bisexual 16-year-old boy...it was grade A wank material. After I caught them, I went into the nearest bathroom and...well, you know.”

“You jerked off in his bathroom?”

Dean shrugged unashamedly. “What can I say? He was...incredible. Just driving into her with this insatiable lust. Almost desperate. There was no way I was walkin’ out of there with the hard on he gave me. Had to get rid of it.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Dean rolled his shoulders back, mindlessly stirring the sauce. “Don’t judge me.”

Charlie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Anyway, continue.”

“So after that, I just kind of tried to push it out of my head, move on...but dad kept inviting him here for dinner, and it was getting more and more difficult, apparently, to hide how attracted I was to him-”

Charlie gasped. “He found out?!”

“Well, yeah. Kinda. He said he could...tell.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Dean put the top on the saucepan, looking out at the living room to ensure John was still engrossed with whatever he was watching, beer in hand. For good measure, he went ahead and got another out of the fridge and took it to him, John mumbling a ‘thanks’, barely looking away from the tv to give Dean a quick smile. Charlie waited patiently until Dean returned, back out of earshot of John. “So one night he was here for dinner, and his car wouldn’t start. I had to go pick up Sammy and Jess from a movie, and…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The short of it is, Sam was drunk when I picked him up, and we got into a fight, and Castiel had to practically pull me off of him.”

“ _ Shit _ ,” Charlie repeated.

“So, uh...I took Castiel home after, and he invited me inside to cool off, and we got to talking. I guess that’s where, uh...whatever the hell this is really started.”

“ _ Just  _ talking?” Charlie waggled her eyebrows.

Dean rolled his eyes and started digging out plates. “Yes, you pervert. We just talked. Told him…’bout some stuff goin’ on with me. He suggested a, uh, relationship might help ease some of the stress.”

“Kind of sounds like he’s just a cougar looking to score hot, young booty,” Charlie shrugged and chewed her lip, watching Dean slip on an oven mitt and remove the bread. 

“Works for me,” Dean huffed a laugh. “I’m 18. I’m not looking to marry the guy. And he was right. I already feel better.” He didn’t tell her the nature of the relationship, of course, or that whatever he and Castiel had was so much more than that. Even Charlie might not understand his strange needs and Castiel’s unorthodox way of going about satisfying those needs. 

“Well, just don’t fall for him,” Charlie sighed, watching him begin to scoop noodles onto the plates. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Aww, thanks, babe,” Dean smirked, handing her a plate of spaghetti with a side of garlic bread. 

“I mean it,” Charlie pointed her fork at him. “You said yourself. He’s a loner, right? The minute some kid starts thinking he’s in love...Castiel will drop you like a hot potato.”

“Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil,” Dean grumbled, spooning more pasta and sauce onto another plate. 

Charlie started to say something else but the screen door slammed and Sam walked in, dropping his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes. 

“Hungry?” Dean asked with a raised brow, holding out a plate.

“Mmm,” Sam hummed, taking the plate and grabbing a few slices of garlic bread from the pan.

“Where you been?” Dean asked as he fixed plates for himself and John.

“Library,” Sam answered, words muffled through a mouthful of bread. He chewed and swallowed. “Project for school. How was your first day of work?”

Charlie smirked down at her food and Dean nudged her hard when Sam wasn’t looking. 

“Fine. It was fine.”

“Cool.” Sam gestured to him with his plate. “Mind if I take this to my room? I have a lot more to do to have this project done before Monday and I really want to hang out with Jess tomorrow.”

“Sure, just don’t leave your plate and shit in there.” 

Sam gave him a smile, grabbed his backpack and a soda from the fridge, and disappeared down the hall with his food. Dean took John his plate and sat back down at the kitchen table with Charlie, twirling some spaghetti onto his fork.

Charlie opened her mouth to speak but Dean held up a hand, giving her a hard look. 

“Please, can we not talk about this anymore? If there’s anything else to tell, I promise I’ll tell you.”

Charlie grinned. “Deal.”

\----

Dean drummed impatiently on the steering wheel as he stared at the big doors. He was early and was pretty sure Castiel was serious about his 7 a.m. sharp rule. He couldn’t help himself, though. It had been a full week since his first scene with Castiel and Dean was eager for their next one. He didn’t realize how much he needed this, needed Castiel, until he’d gotten a taste. Now he wanted it all the time. Itched for it. It was very much like a drug and Dean had no trouble admitting he was an addict. 

Much more than that, though, he had missed Castiel’s company. He missed his rules, the timbre of his voice, the feel of his firm hands, the utter control he had over Dean and how effortlessly he exerted that control. Dean was under Castiel’s thumb and he loved it.

Finally, at 6:59, Dean jogged up to the door and raised his fist. He paused, remembering what Castiel said last time, and waited a beat before hesitantly turning the knob and stepping inside, the sweet smell of cinnamon invading his nostrils. 

Castiel was in the kitchen making Dean’s breakfast. Dean bit back a smile as he slipped beside the man, basking in his presence.

“Hello, daddy,” he murmured.

Castiel smiled briefly. “Good morning, sweet boy. I see you let yourself in. Very good.”

Dean smiled back and looked down at the stove. “What’s for breakfast?”

Castiel pulled him in by the back of his head, kissing his forehead softly, and Dean closed his eyes and leaned into it. “Have a seat.”

Dean blinked and nodded, then took a seat in his normal spot on the counter of the island, where Castiel could easily reach to feed him. He shifted and fidgeted excitedly from the anticipation of food and the day’s unseen events, wondering desperately what Castiel had planned for him on both counts. 

After a few minutes Castiel spooned something into a bowl and turned to him, bowl steaming in one hand and a spoon in the other. He settled wordlessly between Dean’s legs and lifted a spoonful of the stuff to his lips, at which time Dean couldn’t have cared less what was in it, fixated only on the blue of Castiel’s eyes.

Whatever it was had a texture he wasn’t expecting though, and was much more savory than last week’s crepes had been. So the cinnamon he smelled upon entering must be a candle or something.  The mixture was flavorful, though, and he chewed and swallowed quickly, immediately opening for more.

Castiel smiled as he fed him another spoonful. “I’ve played around with a few recipes to try to make oatmeal more appealing, since it’s filling and a good source of energy. This one has white cheddar, red pepper, a little green onion, some salt and pepper, and-” he used the spoon to cut up the fried egg sitting on top, adding some to the next spoonful, “a medium well egg. Protein heavy breakfasts tend to be better for play.”

Dean nodded slowly as he chewed, swallowing and opening again for another bite.

“How is it?”

Dean licked his lips and nodded again, giving him a smile. “It’s really good, daddy. Thank you.”

Castiel quirked a smile and sat the spoon in the bowl, his hand dropping to Dean’s thigh and sliding up to his waist slowly, giving it a squeeze. Dean didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed by his growing arousal, especially since Castiel seemed to enjoy the implication. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes when the man’s hand traveled up to his neck and caressed his cheek, the gentle contact ending with Castiel running his thumb over Dean’s bottom lip. 

“You have quite exceptional lips, Dean. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Dean huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Not in so many words, no.”

“A shame,” Castiel said simply. “I haven’t been able to get them out of my head. In fact, they inspired our scene for today.”

Dean swallowed hard, butterflies flapping wildly in his ribcage, skin tingling, cock throbbing. “What, uh...what are we doing today, daddy?”

Castiel hummed, tracing his thumb along Dean’s lips. “Well, since you asked so  _ nicely,  _ my sweet boy...I just have to know how they’d look wrapped around my cock.”

Dean’s stomach flipped and his throat went dry. He glanced down briefly at Castiel’s crotch and imagined what it would be like to have his cock stretching his jaw open, sliding down his throat. It was difficult, actually, because he’d never sucked cock before. Sure, he’s thought about it, has certainly had fantasies of getting Castiel in his mouth, but he didn’t have any experience with it. Lisa had given him quick blowjobs from time to time, but she didn’t care for it and they never lasted long enough for Dean to get a real feel for how they were done.

Castiel’s thumb dipped inside Dean’s parted lips and pressed against his tongue. Dean moaned and licked at the tip, his cock twitching and his legs tightening around Castiel’s waist. Castiel offered a quick smile and withdrew, chuckling when Dean tried to follow his finger.

“Eager,” he murmured, blue eyes a shade darker with arousal. “I have a suspicion you may have an oral fixation. It usually comes with arousal during hand-feeding.” He spooned some more oatmeal and Dean ate dutifully, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s.

“You’ve never had cock, correct?” Castiel asked, scooping another spoonful. Dean shook his head as he chewed and swallowed.

“Good,” Castiel lips quirked. “I’m going to teach you just how I like it. I’ll talk you through it and we will practice  _ many _ times…” Castiel paused and once again traced his lips, voice lowering to a growl. “Until you’ve got it down to perfection and you can please me fully.”

“Yes, daddy,” Dean said huskily, licking at Castiel’s thumb.

“Good boy.”

The rest of breakfast went much the same way as the other times Castiel fed him, Dean excited and nervous and aroused and Castiel quietly basking in all of it. When they were done, Castiel wordlessly led him into the sitting room and handed him the remote, which Dean raised a brow as he took. 

“You need some time to properly digest your food,” Castiel said with a shrug, sliding on his glasses and picking up some paperwork and a pen off the coffee table before taking a seat beside him. “And besides, I have a few things to look over before we get started. Just relax for awhile, try to release some of that nervous energy.”

He held out his hand in invitation without looking up from his work, and Dean laid out beside him with his head on his lap as he did before. He cycled through the channels, finally choosing some random talk show as he became too tired to keep his eyes open. 

Castiel shook him awake again some time later, and Dean turned up to lay on his back, blinking blearily up at him. Castiel stroked his cheek softly, smiling down at him.

“Are you ready, sweet boy?”

Dean blinked and nodded enthusiastically when he realized what Castiel was asking him, and he quickly sat, clasping his hands nervously in his lap. “What, uh…”

“Do you remember what I told you to do when you enter the den?”

Dean’s breath hitched and he pressed his lips together, nodding slowly. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good.” Castiel reached out and ran a hand through his hair, giving him a nod. “Go on, then. I’ll be up shortly.”

Dean licked his lips and slowly stood. He felt Castiel’s eyes on him as he walked out of the room and ascended the steps, and he hesitated with his hand on the doorknob, finally entering the room and only giving himself a moment to take it all in before he undressed. He shivered despite the room being a comfortable warmth, and he folded his clothes neatly and stacked them on the table. He took a breath as he kneeled in front of the throne, bowing his head and clasping his hands behind his back. The floor below at least had a rug, so the weight on his knees didn’t hurt too much. More uncomfortable than anything else. His cock was already hardening, twitching between his thighs.

It was only a few minutes later that Dean heard the door open and close, and he shivered again with excitement as he heard Castiel crossing the room. All he could see were the man’s feet, still clad in loafers, and he was able to deduce that he was still wearing a pair of casual chinos based on the cuff of the leg. He sat in the throne, spreading his legs, and Dean stiffened excitedly, as if Castiel’s gaze was physical, caressing his shaft with soft touches.

“Good boy,” Castiel whispered, reaching out to cup and stroke Dean’s chin. Dean sighed and leaned in close, strangely at home and relaxed on his knees between Castiel’s legs. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Dean murmured, gazing up at Castiel with utter adoration. 

“You’re already excited,” Castiel said dryly, glancing down at Dean’s cock. 

“Yes, daddy,” Dean breathed, swallowing thickly. 

“You are not to touch yourself unless I say,” Castiel said softly, stroking his cheek. “Understand, boy?”

“Yes, daddy.” 

Castiel let go of his chin and Dean looked down again, and he could hear the crinkle of a condom as Castiel tore open the metallic packaging. His nostrils flared with smell of the faint sweetness of the flavor and the sterileness of the latex. His hands twitched behind his back as he heard Castiel rolling the condom onto his length, and he shivered yet again, chalking it up to excitement.

“Look at me, boy.”

Dean raised his head slowly, forcing himself to look directly up at Castiel instead of focusing on the thick cock he held between his legs. Castiel licked his lips and leaned forward, caressing Dean’s chin again and kissing his forehead.

“Now start slow, baby. Take just the tip, swirl your tongue, suck gently. I’ll instruct you further after that.”

Dean’s gaze never left Castiel’s as he allowed himself to be led forward, Castiel’s hand sliding from his chin to the back of his neck. Dean opened his mouth wide and took the tip of Castiel’s cock in, a weird mix of sweet and bitterness from the condom invading his taste buds. He wished vaguely that the condom wasn’t hindering Castiel’s natural taste, but he didn’t dare argue for now.

“Very good,” Castiel sighed, stroking the back of Dean’s neck gently, lovingly. He squeezed just enough for Dean to feel it, encouraging and just a little possessive. Dean took it to heart and swirled his tongue as instructed, sucking lightly at the tip and inhaling through his nose when he felt it twitch against his tongue. 

“Now, since your mouth is otherwise occupied,” Castiel smirked briefly. “I want you to tap my leg once for ‘yellow’. If you reach ‘red’, don’t bother with tapping. Just pull off. I’m not going to hold your head down. Not this time, anyway.”

Dean shuddered and nodded minutely, careful not to let Castiel’s slide from his mouth. 

“Good boy,” Castiel sunk down low in the the throne, spreading his legs just a little more as if in invitation. Dean almost drooled and suddenly wanted more of that cock in his mouth, hungered for it. 

“You can take a little more, if you’re ready,” Castiel said softly. “Go on, baby. I can see it in your eyes. You want more of daddy’s cock.”

Dean groaned and sunk a little lower, the tip of Castiel’s cock resting fully on his tongue now, stretching his jaw a little more. 

“Breathe deep and slow,” Castiel murmured, stroking his hair. “And don’t be afraid to pull off if you start to gag. No need to force it. Deep throating takes time to master. Just focus on breathing, swallowing, adjusting to the size.”

Dean took a deep breath through his nose and sunk down some more, then pulled back again slowly, swirling his tongue over the head. He heard Castiel inhale sharply and he looked up through his lashes to see the man looking down at him with hooded eyes, biting his lip. The hand in his hair tightened for a few seconds, letting go again when Dean sunk back down. Dean took it as encouragement.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Castiel said lowly. He guided Dean’s movement with a hand on the back of his head and thrust up shallowly into his mouth. “ _ Oh _ , fuck, you look so good, baby...those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. Even better than I imagined.”

Dean moaned and closed his eyes, sinking down as low as he could, until the head of Castiel’s cock nudged the back of his throat. He barely resisted gagging, instead pulling off as he coughed once. He licked his lips quickly and opened his mouth wide as he took him in again, looking up at Castiel with wide, innocent eyes.

“ _ Jesus _ ...gonna make me come, lookin’ at me like that, my sweet boy,” Castiel said a little breathlessly, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair. “Doing so well, baby. That’s it...use your tongue. Hollow your cheeks, suck...yes sweetheart, very good…”

Dean groaned around him, his own cock twitching with interest, hard and throbbing between his legs. He shifted on his knees, leaning in closer as he began a slow bobbing motion. He sank low, pulled back, relishing in the drag of Castiel’s cock against his tongue and the whispered praises from above. They washed over him, a gentle wave that sunk him into a state of mind he wasn’t previously aware of. The rest of the world went fuzzy, dark, unimportant. All he heard was Castiel’s voice, all he felt were his hands, all he saw were his eyes, all that mattered was pleasing Castiel and making him feel as good as he made Dean feel. 

Dean sank lower still, concentrating on breathing and fighting to keep his gag reflex under control. It was easier said than done and he believed Castiel’s words that this would take practice, especially given Castiel’s size. That little glimpse he’d gotten at the party hadn’t done the man justice. 

“Yes, baby,” Castiel breathed, eyes fluttering as he thrusted shallowly again. “Oh, you’re doing so well, my sweet boy.  _ Yes... _ use a little teeth, gently graze-  _ fuck, yes _ , just like that…no no, a little less...okay, yeah baby, that’s perfect...”

Dean grew bolder, confident, taking Castile deeper and faster. He bobbed in earnest now, dragging that thick cock in and out as he sucked and swallowed around the head. Castiel’s breathing became erratic, his hand tightening on the back of Dean’s neck, and a low groan ripped from his throat. The sound alone had Dean’s cock threatening to spill, twitching needily and leaking profusely.  He wished again the condom wasn’t blocking Castiel’s taste. He wanted to feel his cum on his tongue, down his throat. 

“Don’t forget to use that tongue, baby,” Castiel said roughly, squeezing Dean’s neck. “Yeah, perfect...gonna make daddy come, sweet boy…”

Dean pulled off enough to swirl his tongue around the head and lave it over the vein underneath, then he sunk back down as deep as he could. He looked up at Castiel as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, groaning when Castiel closed his eyes and squeezed his neck. His breath caught and his cock swelled and pulsed as he filled the condom with hot cum, and Dean practically whined when his own euphoria overtook him. Castiel’s hand slid from the back of his neck to cup his jaw as he pushed deep, grunting when Dean gave a particularly hard suck and ran his tongue along the small bulge of the condom that was filled with his release. 

Castiel gently pulled Dean off, running his thumb along the boy’s lips once more as he sat back. It was only then that Dean realized he’d come all over the floor beneath him, a string of thick cum stretching from the tip of his softening cock down to the floor.

Castiel’s mouth hung slightly open as he breathed hard, chest rising and falling under his pristine white shirt, brow furrowed. He pinched the end of the condom and pulled it off before tying it, then leaned forward, raising a brow.

“Did I give you permission to come, boy?”

Dean’s face burned and he looked down at his shame, shaking his head. “No, daddy.”

“I very much like watching you obtain release, and you deprived me of that.”

Dean looked up at him pleadingly, licking his swollen, tingly lips. “I’m sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to. I can… I can do it again, just for you.”

Castiel stood and tucked himself away, buttoning and zipping his pants before he walked over to dispose of the condom in the trashcan by the door. He sat back down and patted his lap, mouth set in a hard line. “Come here, boy. On your stomach.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he swallowed nervously. “Daddy, please, I’m so-“ 

“ _ Now. _ ” 

Dean scrambled up at the tone of voice and stretched himself out across Castiel’s lap. It was a strangely intimate position while simultaneously humiliating, his arms braced across Castiel’s thigh and his bare ass out in the open. 

Castiel splayed his fingers across the smooth skin of a round cheek and Dean couldn’t help but flinch, his breathing uneven and his eyes watery. 

“Calm down,” Castiel spoke, his voice soft but with an edge to it. “Breathe, boy. Nothing has happened yet.” 

Dean closed his eyes and focused on breathing, his heart rate gradually slowing. He sniffed once and licked his lips, a little more calm but still tense under Castiel’s hard gaze. 

“You came without permission,” Castiel sighed. “For that you get five spankings. You also get one for hesitating when I gave you a clear command. Six in total. Does that seem fair to you?”

Dean’s voice shook. “Y-Yes, daddy…” 

“You’re going to count for me.”

Dean’s hands trembled as he nodded. “Yes, daddy.” He let his head drop and held tightly to Castiel’s pant leg with both hands when he felt Castiel raise his hand, every nerve ending in his body on edge for the first slap, which would come what felt like an eternity later. 

It was about as hard as Dean expected, directly on his left cheek, and it stung at first, causing him to give a small yelp and tighten his grip on Castiel’s pants. Castiel held his hand there for a moment to squeeze and massage the skin, and Dean uttered a small, shaky: “One.”

He heard Castiel hum and suddenly his hand was gone again, then back immediately, coming down hard on his right cheek this time. Dean made a noise somewhere between a groan and a yelp, a thrill of pleasure surging straight to his cock. 

“T-two.”

He shifted very carefully, now fully aware that his cock was hardening again just from the punishment alone, which was both confusing and terrifying. He didn’t know if that was allowed, or if Castiel would reprimand him for that as well. And worse, he didn’t know if it was  _ normal _ to be so turned on by someone degrading him and causing him physical pain, no matter how minor that pain actually was.

Another hard slap, this one on his left cheek again, which was still burning from the last. His breath hitched in his throat and he pulled lightly on Castiel’s pant leg. Castiel pulled him further into his lap, his own hardening cock pressing into Dean’s side.

“Three.”

The next two slaps were the same, Castiel alternating cheeks each time, and Dean dutifully counted them and anxiously and excitedly awaited the next. Tears sprung to his eyes after the fifth one, but he didn’t feel  _ bad _ ; he felt...really good, actually, and free, in a peculiar way he couldn’t quite understand. 

The sixth and final slap landed on his right cheek, now numb, and he wrapped his hand tentatively around Castiel’s ankle, laying bonelessly across his lap.

“Six.”

Castiel hummed again as he squeezed and kneaded his raw skin, pulling his cheeks apart between his hands. Finally he tapped Dean on the back.

“Stand up, boy. Turn and face me.”

Dean sniffed and scrambled to his feet, not bothering to wipe the few stray tears from his cheeks as he clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at Castiel. He tried not to stare directly at the man’s lap, at the massive erection he was pretending to ignore or the streak of white from Dean’s cock across his black slacks. Castiel’s pupils were blown wide and he looked a little wild,  but his jaw was still set hard, the only indication that he was keeping himself in check.

“You look like you enjoyed that.”

Dean nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned up slightly, but was gone again just as quickly. He stood and stepped close, never taking his eyes off Dean’s, and reached around Dean to pull his arms forward, pressing one of his hands to his cock. Dean wrapped his fingers around the outline, breath hitching as he looked innocently up at Castiel.

“I enjoyed it too, sweet boy. You did so well for me,” Castiel said softly, taking Dean’s face in his hands and thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks. He kissed Dean’s forehead and lowered to his eye level, scanning his face.  “So well, in fact, that I’m going to bathe  _ with  _ you today. Would you like that?”

Dean nodded a little too eagerly, but Castiel seemed to find it amusing. He hummed, pleased, and took Dean’s hand to lead him to the bathroom. Dean settled into one of the plush stools and watched Castiel run the water, fetch the lavender oil and bath salt, and begin filling up the tub. He turned to Dean and raised a brow.

“Undress me.”

Dean jumped up, wincing only a little at the sting on his ass, and carefully began to unbutton Castiel’s shirt. He fumbled a little under the man’s intense gaze, pulling each button free until the shirt fell open and he pushed it off Castiel’s shoulders. 

“Oh…” Dean breathed, unable to keep the small gasp of appreciation to himself. Castiel had the body of a runner. Slim, tight muscle, a firm chest and a mostly flat stomach with only the smallest of pudges that was most likely from age than anything else. Dean loved it all and itched to touch, feel, kiss.

“I’ll need my pants off too,” Castiel said, amusement lacing his voice.

Dean mumbled an apology and dropped to his knees, glancing up at Castiel as he dragged the zipper carefully over the large bulge still present. It sprung free and Dean licked his lips, resisting the urge to lick at the thick head as he pulled the pants down and helped Castiel step out of them.

“On your feet,” Castiel commanded. Dean obliged, clasping his hands in front of him, eyes carefully trained on Castiel's face. Castiel gave him a small smile and gently caressed his cheek, his eyes capturing and holding Dean's, a moment of silent reverence shared between them. Dean closed his eyes as Castiel leaned forward and kissed his forehead and stroked his hair, only opening them again after he felt the man pull away. He watched as Castiel crossed over to the tub, admired his toned backside as he leaned over to check the water. 

He stepped inside and turned back to Dean, extending a hand. Dean took it and stepped in with him, letting himself be lowered into the hot water slowly. He hissed and tensed when his sore backside touched the water, and Castiel shushed him, large hands sliding down his thighs and back up, wrapping around his waist as Dean finally let himself be pulled down into the water. 

Castiel hooked his chin over Dean's shoulder and nuzzled his neck, whispering soft praises against the shell of his ear until Dean could finally relax. He slumped back against Castiel, his head lolling to the side, eyes closed, breathing evenly. 

“You did so well, sweet boy,” Castiel whispered, kissing his neck. “You're a quick learner. You're going to do so well, Dean, so well with me.”

“Jaw kinda hurts…” Dean mumbled, keeping his eyes closed as Castiel spread the water across Dean’s chest. 

Castiel chuckled and Dean detected a bit of smugness. “Apologies,” he rumbled in Dean’s ear, licking the shell. “I expected you to tire more quickly, but you kept going...and I was right. Your pretty lips look so good wrapped around me. Watching you made it difficult to keep from…”

“Coming all over my face?” Dean supplied with a small smile.

“I was wearing a condom,” Castiel interjected. “But...yes. And you are very good with that tongue of yours, boy.”

“Good to know,” Dean shifted and lolled his head to the other side, pressing his nose up against Castiel’s neck. 

“How do you feel?” Castiel asked as he grabbed the loofah, squeezing a little bit of oil and soap onto it.

“Ah...weirdly good,” Dean admitted, blinking as Castiel gently began to massage the mixture into his skin. “Didn’t expect to like...you know, being spanked so much. It hurt, but it…”

“Also felt good?” Castiel whispered, sliding the loofah across Dean’s neck and watching as it bobbed with a swallow.

“Y-yeah…” Dean cleared his throat. “I dunno why.”

“The point isn't to necessarily need to understand how or why,” Castiel said simply, running the loofah over Dean's chest. “This is about letting go, giving yourself over to me, mind and body. I take all those little things that bog down your mind, that weigh on your heart, and I work with them to create an escape for you. There doesn't have to be reason, or purpose. When you're with me, you're allowed- no,  _ expected _ \- to have a clear mind.”

“But-”

“If you have to try to reason it,” Castiel continued, “perhaps you enjoyed the punishment because you feel, deep down, that you deserve it. Because you've told yourself for years that you don't deserve any better than what you've been given. So you come here, and you're taken care of like never before, and you're loved, unconditionally, and regarded highly in such a way you've never experienced. And perhaps deep down, or perhaps not so deep at all, you don't find yourself deserving of affection… least of all, from someone who- in some small way- reminds you of what you're missing from your father. From your brother.”

Dean frowned, relaxing back against Castiel's chest. Castiel slid the loofah down his torso, his other hand following, slick with oil and soap. 

“So you want to _ feel  _ that pain, to relish in it, because it makes the acceptance, the caretaking, the  _ love  _ easier to process. It makes you feel like you've  _ earned _ it.” Castiel dipped his hand into the water, gently caressing Dean's cock, sliding lower to cup his balls as he pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “But you, sweet boy… you deserve every scrap of affection you glean from me. I don't want you to ever think you're not good enough, or not cared for. You  _ are _ .”

“Why?”

Castiel paused and turned his head, pressing his lips to Dean’s cheek. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to give me all of this affection?” Dean closed his eyes and sighed as Castiel caressed his inner thigh. “Why do you want to love me unconditionally, take care of me?”

Castiel hummed quietly and shifted his hand, lightly tracing Dean’s cock with a finger. “Do you need a reason?”

Dean chewed his lip, finding it hard to think when Castiel’s cock was nudging against his ass. It was still hard, but Castiel seemed content to ignore it. Didn’t even seem bothered by it. Dean marveled at his control.

“I...I guess I don’t  _ need _ one,” Dean shrugged, twitching when Castiel casually gripped his half hard cock. “I just want to know why you chose me. Why you...want to love me in this way. It takes trust, right? And you said these relationships are intense, emotional...you don’t seem like the kind of person to pick just anyone for that.”

“Because, like I said, you're special.” Castiel kissed his shoulder as he slid his hands along the inside of Dean's thighs. Dean pressed his lips together, spreading his legs a little wider. There was a beat of silence and Castiel chuckled softly. “You want to know why.”

“Yes.”

Castiel took a deep breath as he leaned back, and Dean stiffened, worried he'd angered him. But then Castiel's hands were in his hair, his lips on his skin, pulling Dean back against his body. 

“You're not like the others I've had before, Dean. They were mostly transparent. They were easy cases, broken within a scene or two. There was no mystery to their desires, no particular gratification to breaking and rebuilding them.” He paused, pressing and holding his lips to Dean's neck. “I learn something new each time I see you. You're a puzzle that I'm very much enjoying how to piece together. You challenge me. You excite me; physically, yes, but also spiritually. But I think...I think it's mostly because you're constantly surprising me. I get to fulfill you physically, but you're giving me more emotional fulfillment than the others ever did, by letting me be for you what you don't feel you otherwise have. As you've noticed, I don't keep many people close, and therefore only get opportunities such as these to express the love and devotion I have. But you… you crave deep connection, in all its forms.”

“So you're sayin’ I'm desperate.”

“Not at all. The opposite, in fact. You've lived your life with this deprivation, and you were resigned to it. You thrived on your own despite it. So for you to choose me to open yourself to… I'm honored.” Castiel brushed his fingers over Dean's neck, and Dean tilted his head up and back, closing his eyes. “There's a purity to you that I admire. It makes me feel like a better man, for you to entrust me with a soul as pure as yours.”

“What makes you believe I’m pure?” Dean snorted, shivering as Castiel’s fingers wrapped loosely around his neck and rested there.

“It’s in your eyes,” Castiel shrugged. “You have an innocence about you that shines through them. It’s the kind that people like you have. People that don’t hesitate in sacrificing their own emotional health in order to make others happy.”

“That...sounds really bad for me,” Dean muttered with a frown. 

“Yes, it’s not healthy behavior at all, I’m afraid,” Castiel sighed, sounding genuinely distressed. “But I believe you’ve lived like this your whole life, so it’s second nature for you to put everyone before yourself. But when you’re here…” he pressed his lips to Dean’s neck again, nibbling lightly at the skin and smiling briefly when Dean’s breath hitched. “When you’re here, sweet boy, you are my only priority. If I do my job right, you will leave after each meeting feeling loved and cared for, spoiled and sated, fulfilled emotionally and physically.” 

Castiel reached over the side of the tub and grabbed a bottle of shampoo, squeezing some into his hand. He kissed Dean’s hair and began shampooing, lathering the soap in with his fingertips, massaging his scalp gently. Dean closed his eyes and leaned back, shivering at the feel of Castiel’s hands in his hair. 

“Cas, have-” Dean paused, “um. I mean, daddy-”

“Outside of a scene, you may call me whatever you’d like, Dean.”

Dean cleared his throat nervously and nodded, but didn’t speak right away, almost feeling like he’d ruined the reverence of the moment. Castiel waited patiently, his hands moving slowly through his hair. 

“You don’t think you’ll ever want anything else? I mean… I know you say you don’t get lonely, but...this life doesn’t seem like something that people would want forever.” Dean paused again, furrowing his brow. “I just mean...it can only be so fulfilling to a point, right? And it must be hard, the people you love so deeply and so strong eventually leaving when they’re fulfilled...and what if you’re not fulfilled when they are?”

Castiel’s hands stopped moving and he didn’t say anything right away, but he quickly started up again, taking a quiet breath. “Another thing I admire about you...your insatiable thirst for knowledge, combined with that plucky gumption that I find  _ so _ endearing.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Castiel sighed and rinsed his hands in the water, sliding Dean down as far as the tub will allow, and grabbing a cup from the outside of the tub. He filled it with water and tilted Dean’s head back, shielding his forehead as he began rinsing the soap out. 

“Ultimately, my dear boy, this is not about me. I enjoy giving myself to others. I enjoy helping others. My pleasure comes from _ giving _ pleasure, plain and simple.”

“But, even having these intense emotional relationships...you don’t ever let anyone know the real you, right? Like, all this Dom stuff...it’s what you do to fulfill a need. But you don’t...I mean, you don’t really... _ bare  _ yourself, in the same way your Subs do.”

Castiel hummed. “I disagree. My Subs see much more of the real me than anyone else does.”

That made sense, to a point, but then all Dean could think about was how Dom Castiel and businessman Castiel still seemed like fronts for who he assumed was the real Castiel...the one who enjoys working with his hands, creating, cooking, and reading. The one who smokes cigarettes when he’s anxious and hides from his own parties.

“You’ve never been in love before?”

Dean wasn’t sure what made him ask it, and in fact, the question tumbled from his lips before his brain even processed the words. He sighed and closed his eyes slowly, freezing when Castiel did, only unclenching his muscles when Castiel  _ finally  _ shifted, pouring more water over his hair. 

“I love all of my Subs as hard as I safely can,” he said finally, wiping the excess water away from Dean’s eyes and pouring more to wash some soap away from his ear. 

“That’s not the same thing.”

Castiel didn’t answer, and so Dean took a deep breath, figuring now was the time to push as opposed to when Castiel was more comfortable causing him pain when he disobeyed.

“I mean, I love Sam hard, but I’m not  _ in  _ love with Sam.” He frowned. “Obviously. That’d be gross.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “I understand the difference, Dean.”

“So…”

“I’ve never participated in a relationship outside of this dynamic.”

Dean huffed softly. “Cas-”

“Surely you’ll be getting hungry,” Castiel said smoothly, wrapping his arms around his chest and kissing his shoulder. “Lets get you dry and clothed. How does apple cinnamon pork loin sound? I’ve had it in the slow cooker since early this morning.”

Dean sighed softly and knew that was all he was going to get out of Castiel for the moment. He nodded mutely and let himself be helped out of the tub. He stood still as he was dried and wrapped in a robe. Castiel donned a robe as well and lead Dean out of the room. 

“I’ll meet you down there,” Castiel said, kissing Dean on the cheek. 

Dean nodded and shuffled downstairs where he could smell the pork loin roasting. He blushed when his stomach grumbled and begrudgingly admitted that he was indeed hungry. He plopped down on the couch, finding it odd that he didn’t have to lift a finger to help with lunch, and stretched out his back. The robe may or may not have slipped open a little, but Dean pretended not to notice either way. For some reason he enjoyed teasing Castiel. ‘Being a brat’, as the man would say. 

He heard Castiel on the steps a few minutes later, but he laid there anyway, pillowing his arms under his head and closing his eyes. There was faint clattering in the kitchen and the rustle of plates and silverware, then:

“Come, boy.”

Dean sat up excitedly and quickly walked into the kitchen, doing his best to look nonchalant when he entered. Castiel was in his normal spot between the island and kitchen counter, his hands by his sides, an unreadable expression on his face. He helped Dean unto the counter like normal, eyes locked, his lips perhaps a little too close for Dean’s comfort before he stepped back to grab the plate of food. He took a piece of soft apple between his fingers and held it out to Dean, pressing it to his tongue when Dean opened. Sweetness and spice exploded on his tongue and he willingly sucked Castiel’s fingers clean, licking along the tips as he tried to maintain an innocent gaze. Castiel hummed and took a step forward, pressing himself up against the island as he picked up the fork and fed Dean his first bite of pork, which was unbelievably tender and juicy. Dean made a bit of a show of closing his eyes and moaning softly, unable to contain his smirk when he heard Castiel’s sharp intake of breath.

“Do you think this is a game?” Castiel’s voice was quiet, with a bit of a sharp edge to it, but his features were gentle, eyes soft.

“No, daddy,” Dean said innocently, sliding forward and wrapping his legs around Castiel’s waist, pressing his already hard cock against the front of the man’s slacks. “Not unless you want it to be.”

“I want you...” Castiel said softly, leaning in close, blue eyes on green, until their lips almost brushed, “to behave.” 

Dean untensed with a sigh and he slumped his shoulders, pouting slightly. He didn’t know what it was about the feeding that got him so hot, or why he was pushing his luck so boldly, but he  _ did  _ know that he was not at all ready for Castiel to be done with him for the day, and he wasn’t sure he could wait another week to be under the man’s control again.

“Why are you trying to antagonize me, boy? I know that pretty red ass of yours still smarts. So ready for me to spank you raw again?”

Dean chewed his lip, eyes scanning Castiel’s face. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me, daddy.”

Castiel’s nostrils flared and he held Dean’s gaze with a hard stare, both of them silent for a long time. 

“I admire your enthusiasm,” Castiel said finally, feeding him another bite of the pork and wiping his mouth dutifully. “But your audacity is going to get you into trouble.”

“Like the looks I give?” Dean smirked, raising his brows and licking at the fork as he took in another piece of pork. “Said looks lead me here...if this is the trouble you were talking about then  I might not want to behave.” 

“That smart mouth isn’t going to do any good either,” Castiel said with a huff, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m going to have my work cut out with you, brat.” 

Dean chewed and smiled innocently, humming contently when Castiel presented another soft slice of apple. He was granted a few seconds with Castiel’s finger before the man pulled it away. 

“Your robe is open, by the way,” Castiel said casually, feeding him more pork. 

“Is it?” Dean blinked down as if seeing it for the first time. “I’m so clumsy sometimes.”

“Mm hm,” Castiel hummed dryly. 

“Serves you right for getting dressed,” Dean pouted as he pulled at the belt loops of Castiel’s slacks. 

“Being dressed while you are nude maintains a balance,” Castiel said patiently. “I remain in control, you remain vulnerable.”

“Guess that kinda makes sense,” Dean mumbled as he chewed, then twitched when Castiel popped him on the cheek. 

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.” 

Dean finished chewing and swallowed purposefully, pulling his robe a little tighter around himself. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

Dean tried his best to behave himself for the rest of the meal, eating in comfortable silence. Castiel took a few bites for himself here and there as well, which was the most Dean had ever seen him eat at the times that he fed him. He sat the empty plate in the sink and carefully wiped Dean’s mouth, then took him in his arms before Dean could bother to argue, carrying him back into the sitting room. Castiel deposited him on the couch before sitting down himself, then pulled Dean back between his legs, immediately pulling his robe down off his shoulders.

“What are you-”

Castiel held his neck loosely with one hand and gently smacked his cheek with the other, taking his chin between his fingers as he leaned forward to look at him, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“You wanted to tease,” Castiel said simply. “I can tease too.”

Dean held his breath as Castiel manhandled him into the position he desired, slunk low between his legs, his head resting back against his chest. The robe was open in the front now, baring him completely to Castiel, his cock half hard between his legs. Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of lube, laying it on Dean’s chest.

“I want you to prepare yourself, like I showed you last week, with this.”

Dean picked up the bottle then paused, frowning up at Castiel. “You- you planned this.”

Castiel popped him on his cheek again and Dean moaned, immediately nuzzling the hand. Planned or not, Dean had absolutely no problem bending to Castiel’s will, so he wordlessly opened the bottle of lube and slicked his fingers. He reached down between his legs and pressed them against his hole, moaning again loudly as he pushed the first one inside to the first knuckle. 

“Yeah...that’s beautiful, baby,” Castiel whispered in his ear. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and slid his hands up, flicking both of his nipples. Dean jerked hard and hissed, grunting softly. “Oh,  _ fuck _ ...yes, sweet boy, I am going to  _ enjoy  _ this.”

Dean worked the first finger in further and slid it slowly in and out as Castiel continued to swipe his fingers over his sensitive nipples, his mouth hanging open as he panted, head back against Castiel’s chest, eyes closed.

“Don’t stretch yourself too much,” Castiel said, kissing his temple. “I want this to open you up, want you nice and tight for it.” Dean forced his eyes to open and focus on a little blue vibrator and remote in Castiel’s hands, his heart leaping in his chest. He pinched one of Dean’s nipples hard and Dean cried out, arching against him. “Do you understand, boy?”

“Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good boy,” Castiel whispered, grazing his lips over Dean’s forehead and sliding a hand up to his neck. “Go on then.”

Dean exhaled roughly and dragged his finger out, circling his rim before slowly adding a second finger. He shuddered and arched, pressing back against Castiel’s chest and spreading his legs more. 

Castiel hummed, stroking the length of Dean’s neck and tracing his collar bone with feathery touches. 

Dean swallowed and scissored his fingers, twitching every time Castiel casually flicked or pinched a nipple. Damn him. Dean’s nipples were outrageously sensitive and Castiel was taking advantage, knowing that even the softest touch sends sparks down Dean’s spine.

“R-ready,” Dean murmured. Castiel handed him the small vibrator and Dean shook as he coated it with lubricant. He took a deep breath as he lined it up, circling his rim with the tip before slowly pushing in. It was only a little bigger than his fingers and slid in easily enough, his walls hugging around it tightly and clenching wildly. A mixture of excitement, arousal, and the still foreign feeling of having something inside him. 

“Are you comfortable?” 

Dean shifted and nodded, gripping Castiel's pant legs on either side. Castiel slid his hand across his chest and lightly brushed over his nipple with his thumb, chuckling softly when Dean shuddered. He kissed the top of his head and rubbed the remote with his thumb in his other hand. 

“Good. Now get that pretty cock hard for me.” 

Dean reached down and took himself in hand, stroking slowly. Castiel gave him a minute before he pressed a button on the remote, and Dean gasped and pressed back into him with the toy began to vibrate lightly. His hand paused on his cock and Castiel smacked his cheek softly, then gripped his chin. 

“Focus, sweet boy,” he commanded, humming when Dean did as he was told. Castiel's hand dropped back to his nipple, flicking every so often. 

Dean closed his eyes and focused on the sensations, on making his hand move, on the quiet praises Castiel whispered in his ear. He faintly registered his own erratic breathing as his cock began leaking, a low moan that he eventually realized was coming from him. 

“That's it, sweetheart… keep going, I'm going to turn it up one now. Just focus on making yourself feel good.” Castiel kissed him softly on his forehead before turning the toy up to the next setting, brushing his thumb over his neglected nipple and nibbling gently on his ear. 

All the sensations were almost too much for Dean, making it hard to  _ focus _ on anything. Castiel was relentless with his nipples and popped his cheek if Dean slacked even a little with his stroking, working the vibrator in and out of his hole. 

“C-Cas-” Dean gasped when the tip of the vibrator brushed his prostate.

“Shh,” Castiel whispered, tilting Dean’s chin up so he could nuzzle and bite at his neck. “Easy, baby. Nice and slow.”

Dean spread his legs even more, one falling off the couch completely to brace against the floor as he arched. He pushed the vibrator in deeper and groaned as it pressed flush against his prostate. He heard a faint click and the vibration increased in intensity. Dean choked and began pumping it in and out in quick, desperate thrusts. Miraculously his hand didn’t still on his cock, squeezing the base as he stroked down. 

“Yes, there we go,” Castiel whispered against his ear. “Look at you. Beautiful. Absolutely stunning, sweet boy. You love having that little toy deep inside, hm?”

“W-want you,” Dean stuttered, fighting back a blush on his cheeks and failing as a loud groan tore from his throat. “Want your cock, daddy. Please…”

“Ah, so eager,” Castiel chuckled lowly, rolling Dean’s nipple between his finger. “In due time, sweetheart. I’ll fill you up and you’ll ache for it, for me, when you’re home in bed. You’ll think of me inside you and you’ll desperately want to touch yourself, to fuck yourself on that dildo I gave you. Except it will feel too small now and you aren’t allowed to pleasure yourself without my permission...isn’t that right, boy?”

Dean nodded and yelped when the smack landed on his cheek. “Yes, yes, daddy.”

“Good boy. You can come whenever you'd like, by the way. Let's see if you can get yourself there, hmm?” He held the remote up in front of Dean's face, flipping it in his hand, then pressed the button, yet again intensifying the vibrations of the toy. 

Dean moaned desperately, barely recognizing the sound as his. He stroked his cock faster, his balls drawing up tight as he flirted with the edge of orgasm. 

“Okay, now push that toy in as deep as you can manage, then give me your hand. I want you to come on the sensation, not the movement.”

Dean did as he was told, gripping Castiel's hand tightly. Castiel kissed his temple and pinched his nipple hard, immediately following it up with gentle brushes of his thumb over the hardened bud. Dean whimpered pitifully and thrust up, his legs spread wide and trembling uncontrollably. 

“D-daddy,” he cried, “please…”

“Can't wait to be buried in that sweet little hole of yours,” Castiel whispered against his ear. “Can't wait to see your pretty face when you come on my cock. C'mon, baby boy, come for daddy.” The faint click of the remote turned the toy up a final notch and Dean whined brokenly, shuddering violently. 

He was there,  _ right there _ , his orgasm building and building but never culminating into anything than more than his balls tightening and his cock throbbing.

“Cas,” Dean muttered brokenly, canting his hips up, desperately seeking  _ something  _ to tip him over the edge. 

“You can do it, baby,” Castiel whispered, sliding his hand down to tease the happy trail leading down Dean’s stomach, but never touching his needy cock. “You will because it will please me and you’re my good boy, aren’t you? My good, sweet boy. You’re going to come all over yourself for me, you’re going to come for daddy…”

Dean choked and arched, his cock finally kicking and shooting hot jets of cum over his stomach, his chest, his thighs. He groaned brokenly, breathlessly, in relief as the orgasm ripped through him. Castiel whispered through it, praising Dean, kissing lovingly at his jaw and neck. 

It felt like an eternity before Dean finally came down from it, blinking glazed eyes up at the ceiling and releasing his softening cock with a weak grunt. He was a boneless heap on Castiel’s chest as he panted and barely registered Castiel clicking the vibrator off. 

“Beautiful,” Castiel murmured, wrapping his arms around Dean's chest. “I knew you could do it, baby. My sweet, sweet boy.”

Dean shuddered, though he couldn't be sure if it was from aftershocks or Castiel's words. He slumped back against the man, lolling his head from side to side, sighing softly. 

“How do you feel?”

“Tired. Just… exhausted,” Dean said immediately, words slurring slightly. 

Castiel chuckled. “I have no doubt. You worked hard today. I must commend your father on the incredible work ethic he seems to have passed on to you.”

Dean was too tired for a snappy retort or even a wry laugh, his brain seemingly shut off from forming any coherent thought. He barely moved when Castiel got up, and barely registered as he was thoroughly cleaned with a warm rag moments later, only hissing through his teeth and jerking slightly when Castiel pulled the toy from his aching hole. Castiel disappeared again, returning some time later, and he took his time placing open-mouthed kisses up Dean's body, from his feet all the way up to his forehead. He knelt beside the couch and rubbed Dean's hair, pressing his forehead against the side of Dean's head in a wonderfully intimate gesture and whispering soft praises in his ear. 

Dean worked up the energy to pry open his eyes. “What about you?” he mumbled, glancing down at Castiel’s very noticeable bulge. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Castiel chuckled, cupping Dean’s jaw and stroking softly. “That was only for you, sweetheart. If I made you get me off every time you turned me on we’d be here all day.”

“Fine with me,” Dean cracked a smile and Castiel huffed in amusement. 

“Too eager for your own good,” Castiel shook his head and leaned forward, kissing the side of his temple. “I think you underestimate the importance of rest and aftercare. You are not a toy, you’re a person. Trust me; you will be thankful for the aftercare once we get into the more intense scenes. Today was merely a taste of what we can do.”

“You mean the spanking?” Dean blinked and turned over on his side to face the man.

“Partly,” Castiel pressed their foreheads together. “I spanked you as punishment, but you seemed to enjoy it. Pain was not something I had planned on introducing to you for our scenes since that wasn’t what you came to me for, but if light pain causes you pleasure...yes, we can definitely incorporate more of it.”

“I don’t wanna bleed,” Dean said quickly and Castiel nodded slowly, tracing a cheek bone with his thumb.

“Yes, I know,” he said quietly. “I have no desire to hurt you, Dean.”

Dean hesitantly reached up, giving Castiel the opportunity to pull away or tell him no before he laid his hand over his, holding them to his cheek. “I know.” He swallowed hard, scanning Castiel’s face. “Are there...I mean. Your other Subs, did they enjoy pain?”

“Most of them, yes. In some way or another.  But...most of them came to me with that as one of their specific needs, highlighted in their contracts. With you, I knew we would discover things along the way, but I didn’t necessarily expect you to react the way you did. Especially given that you are a people-pleaser, I thought the spanking would be...not only uncomfortable for you, but degrading, humiliating.” He tilted his head. “Which was kind of the point. But now that I know you enjoy it…”

“You’ll have to try to find new punishments.”

Castiel quirked a smile. “Yes.”

“Did, uh…” Dean tried to swallow again, but his throat was dry and he coughed instead. Castiel pulled away slightly and handed him a glass of water, and Dean didn’t know when he retrieved it but assumed it was when he was barely conscious. He took a few sips and passed it back to Castiel, who sat it on the coffee table. “Did you use those knives on people? As punishment?”

Castiel frowned and reached up with his free hand, brushing fingers lightly over Dean’s chest, down to his stomach, and back up in a rhythmic motion. “No, Dean. I don’t like the idea of making physical marks on my Subs out of any sort of malice...even if it’s all a part of play. The knives, as I said before, are mostly used as an anticipation technique. But I have had Subs in the past that also enjoyed having the knives used on them as a source of pain. Not my favorite type of play, if I’m being honest.” 

Dean huffed nervously. “You don’t like hurting people?”

“I  _ love  _ hurting people, when it’s what they want. When their pain brings them pleasure, their pleasure brings me pleasure.” He shrugged. “Just not a huge fan of blood play.”

“I don’t think I am either,” Dean shuddered.

“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Castiel hummed. “You came to me to be taken care of, loved. Not punished, even if subconsciously you feel deserve punishment.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I...that doesn’t make sense.”

“Mm, it does if you think about it,” Castiel smiled and moved to sit on the couch, pillowing Dean’s head in his lap and stroking his hair.

“‘M too tired to think,” Dean mumbled, closing his eyes with a small sigh. 

He didn’t hear Castiel’s reply before he fell asleep under gentle stroking.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean found that he really hated the week between each visit, despite the fact that each scene seemed to ease his mind more and more. He was sleeping better, his grades were climbing steadily, and he had more energy for his shifts at the garage. It was working, but the wait was excruciating and sometimes his mind wandered, imaging what Castiel had in store for him. It was torture and Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Castiel did this purposefully, making Dean squirm all week before finally giving him that release he needed.

Not that Dean was complaining. The anticipation made it all the better and the whispered ‘good boy’ in his ear was nothing short of ecstasy. Dean came to terms fairly quickly that his desires bordered on strange at the very least, but Castiel never judged and no one else knew so he didn’t see the harm in indulging. And he felt safe with Castiel, safe in the knowledge that he knew what he was doing and would stop if Dean told him to. Safe that Castiel would never utter a word about his weird kinks to anyone.

Stepping inside Castiel’s house was like coming home and this Saturday morning was no different. Dean walked in without hesitation this time, already shedding his everyday persona and adopting the obedient one that was Castiel’s _sweet boy_.

It had been close to a month since they’d begun whatever it was they had, and Castiel had still barely touched him. Every scene they’d done so far either had Dean pleasuring himself or pleasuring Castiel, and Dean was _aching_ for the man to touch him, hoping desperately for it when each Saturday rolled around. He didn’t dare ask, though, because it seemed like Castiel knew his body possibly better than he did, and he didn’t want to risk angering him or doing anything to potentially draw the anticipation out further.

“There’s my boy.”

Dean smiled softly as he entered the kitchen, and Castiel turned to face him in front of the stove, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Hi, daddy.”

Castiel threw the towel over his shoulder and motioned Dean over, immediately grabbing his waist to lift him up to the counter. He settled between his legs and buried his face in Dean’s neck, kissing it with the same fervor that Dean felt upon entering the house...the same fervor he felt every time he was in the same vicinity as Castiel.

Castiel pulled back, frowning slightly. “You cut your hair.”

“Yes.”

“It’s almost too short.”

“I’m sor-”

Castiel grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair on top and pulled back, Dean uttering a small groan as his neck was exposed. Castiel leaned in, lips grazing Dean’s throat as he spoke.

“You’re lucky...I would’ve been disappointed if it was too short for me to get a good grip.”  

Castiel chuckled when Dean swallowed hard, and he pressed a kiss to his Adam’s apple. He took Dean’s face between his hands after he let go, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks.

“What are we doing today, daddy?” Dean breathed, leaning into the touch.

Castiel quirked a smile that was gone just as quickly. “How have you been this week, Dean?”

“Good. Ah, great, actually. I aced that Physics test yesterday. Well...I got a 94, but one of the questions was ambiguous so the teacher curved the grades, and I ended up with a 98.”

Castiel hummed. “Smart boy. I told you you’d do well.” He breathed in deeply and slid his hands down to Dean’s neck. “Sam?”

“So far, so good. He hasn’t asked really where I’ve been.”

“Does that bother you?”

Dean shrugged, furrowing his brow. “At first, yeah. Just thought...dunno. Made me feel like he didn’t care, that what I’d done for him didn’t matter. But yesterday he asked me if we could go see a movie or something tomorrow, since I’d been so busy lately. So now I’m...I’m feelin’ a lot better about that. Like maybe I am more to him than just a caretaker.”

Castiel smiled warmly as he squeezed the back of Dean’s neck. “And your father?”

“He’s insanely proud that I’m keeping you happy.”

“And are you ever,” Castiel said smugly, tracing Dean’s bottom lip with a finger and hooking it just inside, pulling slightly. Dean touched his tongue to the tip of his finger before Castiel pulled away, dropping his hands to Dean’s waist. He fixed his gaze on Dean and pulled the boy’s shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the counter and laying his hands flat on his chest, sliding them down slowly.

“Your friends?” Castiel glanced up at Dean then back down, watching his own hands explore Dean’s chest, his stomach, his waist.

“Ash is too high to notice anything,” Dean snorted, shivering under the ghosting of fingers over his skin. “Benny...I dunno. He might suspect somethin’, but he’s too polite to ask. Charlie dragged it outta me after the first damn day.”

Castiel paused and snapped his eyes up to Dean, lips pressed in a firm line. “You told her... we-”

“Just told her we had a thing,” Dean shrugged, averting his gaze. “That’s all. She won’t tell my dad, so it doesn’t break any rules right?”

“Yes…” Castiel said slowly, resuming his exploration and teasing a sensitive nipple with a finger. “You’re positive she will...protect your privacy?”

Dean nodded sincerely, watching Castiel carefully. It didn’t do any good. Castiel’s expressions were hard to read at best, if not impossible. “Charlie’s got her own secrets. She doesn’t make a habit of spreading shit around. She’ll take it to the grave if I ask her to.”

Castiel hummed quietly. “And she doesn’t know the nature of our relationship?”

Dean bit his lip and slowly shook his head. “Ah, no. No. I’m not sure even Charlie would...understand.”

“You believe she would judge you.”

Dean glanced away and shrugged, swinging his leg back and forth. “Yeah. Maybe. Charlie is pretty cool, you know, about a lot of things. But some of...this? Might be too much, even for her.”

Castiel breathed in carefully through his nose, setting his jaw. He tilted his head and slid his hands up to Dean's shoulders and down his arms, stopping just above his elbows.

“Are you ashamed?”

Dean stared at him for a second, the hands on his skin warming and grounding. “No.”

Castiel watched him closely, like he was looking for any hint of uncertainty. Finally he nodded slightly, cupping Dean's face. “Good. Never be ashamed of who you are. Anyone who matters will love you exactly as you are. And you are beautiful, Dean.”

Dean swallowed hard and lowered his gaze, fixating on the buttons of Castiel's shirt. After a beat Castiel turned and picked up a bowl of fruit from the counter, offering Dean a piece of a strawberry. He pushed it gently past his lips, leaving his fingers there for a brief moment before pulling back again.

“I have something a bit different planned for you today. Somewhat of an experiment, for me to gauge your progression and adjust your care plan accordingly, if necessary.”

“What kind of experiment?” Dean asked, then opened up for a grape, letting his teeth graze Castiel’s finger and earning a bemused look for his effort.

“All will be explained in the den,” Castiel smiled briefly, feeding Dean a slice of mango. “Always so ready to jump into things, impatient boy. One day you will appreciate slow and steady, building up the moment...the pleasure. Anticipation, my dear boy...that’s half the fun.”

Dean was silent for a moment, eating each piece of fruit obediently and occasionally licking at Castiel’s sticky fingers.

“...a hint, then?”

Castiel sighed indulgently and shook his head. “I will possibly be challenging your comfort zone. Now behave and eat, or I will not allow you any scene today.”

Dean kept his curiosities to himself after that, eating every piece and moaning contently when Castiel allowed him to lick his fingers clean. Afterwards, Castiel lead Dean upstairs and into the den. Dean immediately removed the rest of his clothes, folding them and placing them in their appropriate place. He knelt in front of Castiel, seated on his throne, and obediently settled into his position. Castiel hummed, a pleased sound, and reached out to cup Dean’s chin.

“Such a good boy,” he murmured. Dean leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing softly. “As I said, we are going to try something different today. I am honestly not sure how you will react to it, so safety words are important. Don’t be afraid to use them and answer me honestly when I ask how you’re feeling. Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Go stand at the end of the bed, facing the wall, with both hands on the bedpost.”

Dean reluctantly pulled away from Castiel’s touch and did as he was told, gripping the bedpost with sweaty hands and dropping his gaze from the calming gray of the wall down to the floor. The room was warm, considerably warmer than the rest of the house, but goosebumps formed on his skin nonetheless, hair prickling along his body, a shudder lying dormant just beneath his skin, waiting for the smallest touch to set it free.

He heard Castiel stand and the scuffing of his shoes as he crossed the floor, and his whole body tensed as he heard him stop. Metallic clinking drowned out the sound of his pounding heart, then more shuffling. Dean jumped and shivered violently when he felt the tips of fingers ghost up backside. Castiel pressed himself against Dean’s back and Dean flicked his gaze up long enough to see him fasten handcuffs around his wrists and the bedpost, effectively binding him there. The cold metal hung comfortably around his wrists, too tight to escape but loose enough that they wouldn’t chafe. He shivered again when Castiel pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

Then the warmth of his body was gone, and Dean’s heart leapt in his chest. Seconds felt like an eternity but then Castiel was back in his line of vision, lifting his chin up with one hand and loosening the tie around his neck with the other.

“Do you trust me?” he asked quietly, sliding the tie from around his neck and pulling it between his hands.

Dean swallowed and nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

Castiel’s mouth turned up slightly in the corner, then he licked his lips, lowering his head. “Good boy.”

Castiel held the tie taut between his hands and Dean shifted, handcuffs clanking as he fidgeted. The tie was a deep blue, matching Castiel’s eyes, and it was silky smooth against Dean’s skin as Castiel pulled it over his eyes. Dean’s heart jumped again, lodged in his throat, as his vision went near dark. The tiniest sliver of light peeked from edges of the tie. Dean blinked rapidly, eyelashes brushing the material, and inhaled sharply as Castiel tied a firm knot on the back of his head.

“Sensory deprivation,” Castiel’s voice almost startled him, but it was a welcome and comforting sound that Dean leaned towards. “Is one of the more extreme techniques for scenes. Many people don’t realize how disconcerting it can be to be blindfolded, or to have your hearing muffled, until they are put in that position. However, sensory deprivation can also be relaxing and even meditative, as long as it doesn’t last for an extended amount of time. For our purposes…” a light touch to Dean’s cheek made him twitch, chains jingling as he adjusted his grip on the bedposts. “It is another, deeper level of trust and vulnerability. So far these scenes have been tame, to ease you in...I want to see if we can take it to the next step.”

Dean licked his lips and nodded slowly, the sounds of the den and Castiel’s subtle movements loud in his ears. He could hear the air coming through the vents, the small creaks of the house settling, the brush of material as Castiel adjusted his stance. Castiel was right: it _was_ a bit disconcerting. He felt Castiel’s warmth, though, his body close and his breath puffing gently on his naked skin. It was grounding and kept Dean from floating away, kept him here in the moment instead of in his head. Without his sight it was only darkness and the constant tumble of thoughts, fears, insecurities...all banging around in his head for attention. Touching, though...he could focus on that, focus on Castiel’s fingers ghosting over his spine. There was nothing to be afraid of; Castiel was right there and he was going to take care of him.

Castiel moved back around behind Dean, laying his hands gently over his arms as he kissed along his shoulders, from one side to the other. He lowered his hands to Dean’s waist and slid them around to his belly, Dean gasping softly as he nipped at the back of his neck. He flattened one hand on Dean’s abdomen and inched the other down slowly, finally, _finally_ wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock.

The feel of Castiel finally touching him this way was much more intense than it had any right to be, and Dean wasn’t sure if it was the anticipation of the past month or the sensory deprivation. Castiel’s hands were surprisingly soft but his grip was firm. Dean resisted the urge to thrust into his hand, afraid- and a little excited, if he was being honest- to know what new punishment Castiel had cooked up for him.

Castiel stroked once and chuckled darkly when Dean uttered a frankly embarrassing groan, his head falling back against Castiel’s shoulder.

“Sweet, touch-starved boy,” he rumbled in his ear, swiping a thumb over Dean’s slit and spreading the precum down his shaft. “Well, now...you won’t last very long at all, will you?”

Dean tensed and shivered, shaking his head. A loud, sharp smack landed hard on his ass and he arched and yelped, cock involuntarily pushed forward into Castiel’s hand. He trembled as he tried to relax again and Castiel rubbed and massaged the sensitive skin.

“Oh, yes...seems you enjoyed that, if this pretty little cock is any indication.” Castiel gently stroked the head and just below with the tips of his fingers, the pressure just teasing enough to make Dean a shaking mess.

Another loud smack landed and Dean choked on a yelp, fighting hard to keep it down and utterly failing. His cock twitched and he whined as Castiel fingered the wet slit, toying with him.

“You have the perfect ass for spanking,” Castiel murmured, softly massaging the already reddening skin. “And so _responsive_ , sweet boy. Look at you. We’ve barely begun and you’re leaking all over my hand.”

Dean blushed and groaned loud again as a third smack came down. The sting went straight to his cock, his balls tightening in warning. Jesus, he wasn’t going to last at all. Not with Castiel’s expert fingers working over his shaft between each spanking.

He jerked with another slap, and another, Castiel cupping his abused cheek on the last one and squeezing as he breathed into Dean’s ear.

“I can’t wait to split you open, boy,” he growled, smacking him again and watching Dean cry out. “You have no idea how much I want you. How much this sweet ass tempts me every time. It truly tests my control.”

“Please, daddy,” Dean begged, pulling against the cuffs until it was almost painful, trying to get closer to Castiel. “Please take me. Take what you want.”

“I will, in time,” Castiel promised, then he pulled away completely, though Dean could sense him close by. “But not today.”

Dean groaned pitifully and was not at all prepared for when Castiel spanked him again, much harder this time, jostling him slightly on his feet. His ass stung, briefly alleviated when Castiel pressed himself against his backside, hooking his hand around his hip and pulling him back, giving Dean just the type of encouragement he needed- the feel of his hard cock straining against his slacks.

“You're not ready yet, my sweet boy,” Castiel whispered against the shell of his ear, licking his lobe.

Dean groaned pathetically and ground back against Castiel, sliding his stinging ass against the bulge and almost coming when Castiel’s breath hitched in his ear.

“Naughty little minx.” Castiel huffed and gripped Dean’s hips, holding him steady. Dean trembled, caught between the need to obey and the need to feel that thick cock. He pulled at his cuffs, the metal pinching his skin, the chains jangling.

“Behave, boy,” Castiel said, voice deceptively soft in Dean’s ear. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep pulling on them like that, and then I’m going to have to take them away. I’ll take away the spankings, too. Do you want that?”

Dean shook his head rapidly. “No, daddy, no, please-“

“Then relax,” Castiel shushed him gently, kissing a cheek. “And loosen those arms...yes, that’s it, good boy. Now, I’m going to take things up a notch…” he chuckled softly, “so to speak.”

Dean trembled and sucked in a shaky breath as he felt Castiel shift behind him, heart thudding with excitement when he heard the jangling of his belt buckle and subsequent sliding of his belt through his belt loops. After a couple moments of silence and nervous anticipation from Castiel’s absence, he felt a hand on his cock again, stroking quickly over the head and halfway down the shaft, twisting his hand tantalizingly.

Dean panted and moaned and shook hard, so unbelievably close to orgasm when Castiel stopped abruptly. He didn’t register the whip of the belt cutting through the air until it bit into his ass, and he cried out loudly, arching his back. Cas’s hand was immediately there to caress Dean’s stinging ass, grabbing and massaging. He smacked a few more times with his hand, softly, intimately, holding Dean’s waist with his other hand.

“Fuck.” Castiel’s voice was just the slightest bit unsteady, breathless. He kneaded and pulled at both of Dean’s reddened cheeks, groaning as he pressed himself to Dean’s back and nipped at his shoulder. “Fucking beautiful, baby. Can’t wait for the day I can spank you raw then fill that tight little hole with my cock.”

He pulled away suddenly and brought the belt down with impressive force and Dean sobbed and trembled, and he vaguely worried that his legs wouldn’t hold him for much longer. The train of thought was derailed quickly when Castiel wrapped his long fingers back around Dean’s cock and stroked him quickly, bringing him to the brink of orgasm. His needy moans turned to a desperate sob when Castiel promptly let him go, chuckling darkly.

“Daddy,” Dean choked, legs trembling, the skin on his ass burning and stinging. The tie felt damp and he realized his eyes were watering, a few tears escaping the blindfold and wetting his cheeks.

“Yes, sweet boy?” Castiel rumbled next to his ear, biting at the lobe and sliding the cool leather of the belt across Dean’s thighs.

“P-please,” Dean sobbed, his hips stuttering, seeking both the sting of the belt and the warmth of Castiel’s hand around his cock.

“Please what?”

Dean growled and pulled at his cuffs, chest heaving as he strained for release, for friction, for anything. “So close, daddy, please,” he panted. “Need more.”

He never heard the hiss of leather through the air before it landed just under his ass, smacking him on the back of his thigh. Dean arched and cried out, then groaned in frustration when Castiel squeezed his base. His orgasm was throbbing just inside, desperate to be released.

“Do you think you’ve earned it?” Castiel asked, pressing a kiss to Dean’s sweaty neck.

“Yes, daddy,” Dean breathed desperately, begging. “Yes, daddy. I’ve been so good.”

“Mmm. Have you?”

“ _Yes_ , daddy, please-”

Castiel held tightly around the base of Dean’s cock and stroked the head furiously with his other hand, causing Dean to buck wildly as much as Castiel’s hold allowed, his legs ready to give out under him. He stopped abruptly, still holding the base to keep Dean’s orgasm at bay.

“ _Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,_ ” Dean whispered brokenly, his sensitive cock twitching in Castiel’s hand. “Please let me come, daddy.”

Castiel spanked him again, and again, alternating between the belt and his hand, and Dean sobbed and groaned with each one, his orgasm held at bay, building and building-

Suddenly Castiel pulled away, his hand slipping from Dean’s cock, the sound of the belt being tossed on the bed and the shuffle of footsteps. Dean blinked and breathed deep, arching and pulling, but Castiel wasn’t behind him or beside him. He could hear the man, but his presence felt so far away, too far, and an eternity that was really only a matter of seconds passed through Dean that he would later remember as one of the most irrational but worst moments of his life.

It started with his heart rate, increasingly rapid and so loud it made his ears ring. Air became thick, his throat closing up, unable to drag anything in. The metal on his wrists felt cold, sharp, cutting into his skin. It was dark, terrifying, and Castiel was gone and Dean was left hanging, used up and denied the one thing he had begged for. Dean slipped and spiraled into panic, his stomach dropping and his skin clammy, cold and tight. He pulled at his cuffs in earnest, shaking his head, wanting the blindfold off and the cuffs gone.

“Red,” he gasped, voice broken and desperate, as if he didn’t think Castiel would even hear him, listen to him. “Redredred-!”

He heard something drop, felt the cuffs unhook and the blindfold slip free, and it all happened so fast Dean was disoriented for a few seconds. He blinked and swayed, and Castiel caught him easily, pulling him up and onto the bed where he was laid out, shivering and staring wildly around the room.

Castiel quickly pulled the comforter over him, tucking it around him securely. He propped himself up on his elbow and laid a hand against Dean's cheek, stroking softly as he looked down at him, worry evident in his blue eyes. Dean had a hard time focusing on him, his eyes still darting around the room, chest heaving.

“Hey, I'm here,” Castiel whispered softly, “I'm here, Dean. Come back to me. You're safe, I'm right here, everything's fine.”

“Cas,” Dean said breathlessly, shaking his head, tears welling in his eyes.

“I know, baby. It's okay, I'm right here.”

Dean didn't have the mental capacity at the moment to try to dissect what had happened, and he found that as long as Castiel was there, touching him, reassuring him, that he didn't much care. He swallowed hard and blinked back tears, firmly pressing his lips together to suppress the trembling.

“I'm sorry,” he managed brokenly, tears running down his cheeks. “I'm so sorry-”

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Dean,” Castiel said sincerely, wiping his tears. “Just breathe for me, deep and slow. Focus on coming back down.”

Dean reached out without thought, laying his hand against Castiel's cheek, and Castiel leaned into the touch, his intense stare never wavering.

“That's it,” Castiel said gently, nodding. He ghosted his fingers down Dean's neck and flattened his hand against his chest, rubbing soothingly. “Just focus on me.”

Dean took in an unsteady breath and curled himself into Castiel’s chest. He sighed when he felt those strong arms wrap around him, holding him tight and close. He pressed his ear flush against Castiel’s pectoral and closed his eyes, listening to the steady heartbeat and the gentle breathing. Castiel stroked his hair and whispered words Dean was only half paying attention to as he worked to put his mind back together. There was no telling what had made it come apart, why he had felt so terrified he’d been willing to break his wrists just to slip the cuffs. And he couldn’t seem to get his heart to settle or his stomach to stop clenching painfully. Dean almost felt sick and swallowed thickly, his mouth full of saliva. After some rough breathing, the nausea subsided and Dean slowly opened his eyes.

“Cas…” he whispered hoarsely, his hand clutching at Castiel’s shirt so tightly his knuckles were white.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Castiel murmured, bending to kiss the top of Dean’s head. “It’s alright. It’s over. You don’t have to do anything else but lay here with me.”

“I don’t-” Dean swallowed and grimaced at his sandpaper throat. “I don’t know what- what happened. I’m so sorry, Cas, I’m so-”

“Baby, shh,” Castiel shook his head, squeezing his arms around Dean tightly. “Stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong. It was me, okay? Whatever happened was my fault, Dean. It is _never_ on you.”

“B-but I-I messed it up-”

“No,” Castiel said firmly, cupping the sides of Dean’s face and tilting his head up to look him in the eye. “Nothing is worth your discomfort. I would never expect you to do something you didn’t like. Something went wrong...I did something wrong. I’ll figure it out and it will never happen again, okay?”

“But-”

“That's enough,” Castiel said softly. “We can and will talk about what happened, but right now I need you to know that it was absolutely not your fault, and I need you to breathe and relax.”

Dean swallowed thickly and nodded, sniffing when a few more stray tears escaped the corners of his eyes. He closed his eyes as Castiel wiped the wetness away. When he opened them again Castiel was still watching him carefully, a softness to his expression, and he reached up to brush a few strands of sweaty hair off his forehead.

“You _are_ so beautiful,” Castiel said, almost too quietly for Dean to hear. He trailed the tips of his fingers along his temple and down his cheek, tilting his head and furrowing his brow.

Dean took a deep breath and held it before letting out slowly, feeling his heart rate slow. “What?”

Castiel shook his head after a beat, blinking to break his trance. “Nothing.” He began rubbing Dean's chest again, hand hesitating over his heart. “You're doing well. Take your time.”

Dean rubbed at his eyes. He hated crying. It always left him feeling exhausted and his eyes fuzzy, blurry. He let the exhaustion pull him into a light doze, somewhere between awareness and blissful sleep, his mind thankfully blank under the gentle ministrations of Castiel’s hands. They were both silent save for the occasional whisper from Castiel, Dean never shifting away from him and Castiel never making any move to push him away.

It was an indeterminate amount of time later when Dean finally opened his eyes and looked up, blinking at Castiel.

“Up for a bath, baby?” Castiel asked, stroking his cheek.

Dean nodded and didn’t protest when Castiel picked him up and carried him into the bathroom. The tub was filled, soothing lavender oil and salt added, and soon Dean was submerged in comfortably warm water. Castiel didn’t join him, but knelt beside the tub and rolled up his sleeves. He dipped his hands in the water, sliding his fingers up and down Dean’s thigh, watching him closely with the same unreadable expression he adopted when he was in deep thought. For once Dean wasn’t trying to decipher it. He simply stared at the water, watching it ripple, the occasional sniffle the only sound he uttered.

“I want you to stay here tonight.”

Dean frowned and snapped his eyes up, finding Castiel watching him calmly, still brushing his fingers up and down his thigh. Dean licked his dry lips and tightened his grip on the rim of the tub.

“Why?”

Castiel pressed his lips together and sighed, shoulders lifting and dropping slightly as he hung his head. “I’m just concerned for you, is all. I won’t be able to sleep or think about anything else if you leave tonight. I want to take our time, talk, so I can figure out what I did wrong today and what I need to do to fix it. And most importantly, until I know, I don’t want you out of my sight. If Sub drop were to hit you when I couldn’t get to you, I’d never forgive myself.” He looked back up, eyes scanning Dean’s face. “Just please, stay here tonight. Call your father, then call Charlie, make the arrangements. I’m giving you permission, just for tonight, to lie to your father about where you are.”

Dean quirked a small smile. “I thought your morals were ironclad.”

Castiel huffed, taking Dean’s hand and pressing it against his lips. “This is the exception. And within my set of rules, considering I’m doing what I truly believe is in your best interest.” He moved Dean’s hand to his cheek, tilting his head. “Please. I’ll drive myself sick with worry if you leave this house tonight.”

Dean wasn’t going to argue. He had hoped Castiel would eventually let him stay the night and though this wasn’t how he pictured it, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean nodded, fingers stroking the stubble along Castiel’s cheek. “I’ll stay.”

“Good,” Castiel sighed and grabbed the loofah, loading it up with the usual amount of oil and soap. Dean leaned back and relaxed, watching Castiel thoroughly clean and massage every inch of him, his expression full of worry and care.

Dean wanted to reassure him, but he couldn’t wrap his head around it. One minute it was fine, the next he was panicking. He tried to recall his chaotic thoughts, what had been going through his mind when it all crashed and burned, but Dean couldn’t make sense of it. He wasn’t even convinced that it was Castiel who did something wrong. It had to be him. Castiel was experienced, smart, trustworthy. Whatever had gone wrong, it had to be Dean’s doing.

Castiel helped him up and out of the tub when the water had cooled, toweling him off carefully and wrapping one of the fluffy robes tightly around him. He led him back through the den, keeping a steady hand on his back the entire time, out the door, and down the hall to the guest bedroom that he’d deemed as Dean’s.

It’d changed since he last saw it, the most notable differences being a desktop computer with a large screen sitting on the wooden desk and a large flatscreen tv with what appeared to be a new X-box hooked up to it. Dean couldn’t see what was in the closet, but he was willing to bet it was filled with new clothes, fit to his size and taste.

Castiel sat up against the headboard of the bed and brought Dean with him, settling the boy between his legs and letting him lay back against his chest. He pulled a small bottle of lotion from the bedside table, squirting some into his palm and warming it between his hands before taking one of Dean’s wrists and gently massaging there and down his arm. He did the same with the other arm, taking extra care of the redness around his wrist from the handcuffs. Dean sat quietly, watching his large hands slide slowly over his skin.

“Did I hurt you?” Castiel asked finally, his voice low, full of remorse. He folded Dean’s arms over his own torso and laid his on top, holding him securely.

“No, I-” Dean paused and frowned, huffing in frustration. “Cas, I dunno what- I just- one minute I felt fine; great, actually, and then suddenly I _wasn’t_ and I...I guess I just got scared.”

Castiel was quiet for a moment. “Did _I_ scare you?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Cas, I...actually, I think you _not_ being right there, at that moment, is what scared me the most.” Dean frowned, trying to understand his reaction and only serving to confuse himself further. “I dunno. I was fine, I was great, everything felt... _so good_ , and then it just...didn’t. Everything got...cold, and sterile, and suffocating, and it was too quiet and too loud at the same time, and I felt like I was drowning and you weren’t there, and I couldn’t...couldn’t _ground_ myself.” He took a shaky breath. “I dunno what’s wrong with me, Cas. Maybe I’m not cut out for this like you thought.”

“It was only a misstep, Dean,” Castiel said calmly. “Of course, if you no longer wish to participate, the contract _can_ be broken at any time, and I promise not to dissuade you if that’s what you choose. But...unfortunately, sometimes missteps happen. We decipher them, and we learn from them.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Dean said quietly, pulling absently on the hair of Castiel’s forearm. “I _liked_ it. I...loved it, actually.” Dean huffed a laugh, his cheeks growing hot as he recalled the absolute mewling mess he’d been at Castiel’s hand...and belt. “I just don’t understand.”

“But you enjoyed when I touched you.”

“Yes.”

“And you enjoyed when I spanked you?”

Dean fully blushed this time. “Yes, very much.”

“What about the handcuffs?”

Dean licked his lips and glanced down at his wrists, at the faint red lines circling them, and recalled the cool feel of the metal on his skin. The sound of the chains as he moved, the slight pinch when he pulled on them.

“I...liked them,” Dean whispered. “A lot. I don’t...I have no idea why.”

“Hmm,” Castiel massaged his thumb into a wrist, the lotion smoothing the motion and soothing the skin. “It could be many reasons, but we will explore that later. So the handcuffs didn’t bother you.”

“No,” Dean shook his head.

“How about the blindfold?”

Dean paused at this and tongued his cheek, closing his eyes briefly. “I...at first it was okay.”

“Just okay?” Castiel’s fingers moved up his arm.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged. “Not great, not bad. It was...fine. I was fine until I just...wasn’t.”

“Can you remember when exactly it started?” Castiel asked gently.

“I’m not-not sure,” Dean squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled roughly. “You were...s-spanking me. I was almost there...and then-I dunno, you pulled away-“

“I pulled away.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, the memory surfacing. “I couldn’t feel you. You weren’t touching me. I didn’t feel you nearby. You were just...gone.”

Castiel raised his head, his hands resting on either of Dean's arms.

“Oh,” he said softly, “of _course._ ”

“What?”

Castiel pulled Dean flush against him, nuzzling the top of his head with his chin. “I made a stupid mistake, Dean. I should've known, should've realized it, but I...I just got carried away and I didn't even consider…” he sighed heavily, shaking his head. “You were in a fragile state, and considering your specific needs...I shouldn't have left you there like that. No matter how temporary.”

“I don't…” Dean huffed, fidgeting his hands in his lap. “No, I… that would be stupid, to get like that, just because-”

Castiel shook his head. “No, Dean. Not stupid. Sensory deprivation makes you vulnerable. It requires you to trust completely, and combined with the rest… you were bared to me, emotionally. You were fully dependent on me, your guard down, _trusting_ me to keep you safe, and I failed to do that. Knowing what I know about you, walking away is the last thing I should have done.”

“But it wasn’t even for that long,” Dean threw up his hands, turning his head to look up at Castiel. “You stepped away for just a few seconds. Hardly reason to have a fucking panic attack.”

“It’s plenty of reason for one with your needs, with the care that you’ve entrusted in me,” Castiel cupped his cheek and sighed, the bags under his eyes a little more prominent, the stress of his failure showing in his downturned eyes. “You were handcuffed, eyesight taken away, spanked and denied orgasm. Not to mention you are severely touch-starved, craving human contact to the extreme that you lean into even the slightest touch. Stepping away, even if it was for a moment, betrayed the trust you put into me.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Castiel shook his head. His expression gave Dean pause and he could tell the man was going to blame himself for this no matter what Dean said. Dean himself didn’t blame Castiel for it, not even a little. No one could have predicted such a reaction. Dean didn’t even understand it.

“Turn over your stomach for me,” Castiel said, tapping his side gently. “And slip the robe off. I need to see your backside.”

Dean complied, pulling the robe off his shoulders and flipping over on the bed, pressing his cheek against the soft sheets. He felt Castiel shift beside him and then he was pulling the robe the rest of the way off, sliding a calming hand down Dean’s back when he shivered.

Castiel clicked his tongue, running his hands over Dean’s sensitive backside. “A few welts still...but mostly back to normal. How does it feel?”

“Sore,” Dean admitted quietly, “but otherwise...good.”

“Was the belt too much?”

Dean let out a breath. “ _God_ , no.”

Castiel chuckled and Dean felt the bed shift again when the man moved down and began pressing open-mouthed kisses to his sensitive skin, along the areas that smarted the most. He moved slowly, brushing fingers over a spot then kissing it. He sighed and moved back up the bed, propping his head up with a hand beside Dean and ghosting fingers up and down his back.

“So would you be open to the blindfold again, with the understanding that I will most certainly not leave you again? Or would you like me to add it to your ‘no’ list?”

Dean quickly shook his head and nuzzled into the pillow, spreading his legs a little and enjoying the softness of the sheets against his skin. “No, I’m still open to it. I _really_ liked it, but...I just need you touching me, I think. Without you right there with me…”

“Of course,” Castiel splayed his hand across the small of Dean’s back, watching the muscle clench and relax under his touch. “I will have to mull over that for a bit, figure out the logistics, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Wasn’t a _mistake,_ ” Dean huffed. “It was just a weird...thing. Not your fault.”

Castiel sighed and traced up Dean’s spine. “You’re such a sweet boy...there aren’t many Subs that would be so forgiving.”

“You didn’t _do_ anything _wrong_ -“

“So you keep saying,” Castiel leaned forward and kissed Dean’s shoulder blade. “But I’m still...so very sorry, Dean. It’s not as if I expected every scene to go well, but…” he sighed tiredly. “I was hoping something like this wouldn’t happen so soon. I feel...very much that I’ve failed you.”

“Well, you haven’t,” Dean grunted, rolling over to face him. “You didn’t. I still trust you. I still want this, more than anything. Nothing’s changed.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and stroked Dean’s cheek with his thumb, the silence stretched between them saying far more than his words could.

“Can we try again?” Dean asked softly, eyes pleading.

Castiel quirked a smile. “Of course. Perhaps not tonight, but-”

“Why not?” Dean couldn’t help the slight whine in his voice, and he didn’t care if he sounded like the brat that Castiel said he was. “Look at me. I’m fine. And I hate to point it out again, but you never let me come…”

He definitely wasn’t above using that aspect of what happened against Castiel, especially if it would get him what he wanted. Castiel sighed, eyes downturned in the corners, and he looked down at the bed. Dean bit his lip, then moved to his knees, drawing Castiel’s gaze back up to him. He moved toward him slowly, pressing a hand against his chest, and Castiel rolled to his back to look up at him. Dean took a chance, throwing a leg over Castiel’s waist, each move deliberate enough that Castiel could stop him if he really wanted to. He settled himself gently onto the man’s lap, bracing himself with his hands on Castiel’s chest.

“Please, daddy. Please let me come tonight.”

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat and his slid his hands up Dean’s thighs, pressing his fingers into the skin. He watched him intently, the air thick between them, bodies tense.

“What do you want from me, boy?”

Dean bit his lip and looked down at Castiel through his eyelashes, looking every bit the innocent that he wasn’t.

“You know what I want.”

Castiel exhaled slowly, eyes darkening when Dean ever so subtly slid his naked ass over Castiel’s crotch. He grinned when we felt Castiel twitch against his cheeks, those warm hands flexing on his thighs.

“We shouldn’t,” Castiel murmured, more to convince himself than Dean. “You could still slip into Sub drop, and it’s not right to take advantage of you when you’re emotionally vulnerable.”

“Aren’t the point of the scenes is the make me emotionally vulnerable?” Dean asked, pressing himself down onto Castiel and inwardly cheering when he felt the man begin to swell. “Isn’t that what you do? Make me vulnerable, take me apart, then put me back together?”

Castiel licked his lips, fingers flexing. “Yes…” he swallowed, and his eyes flitted down Dean’s body with obvious lust. “But we shouldn’t scene so soon after red is called. We need to give you time to process-“

“You _need_ to fuck me and let me come,” Dean huffed, grinding down on Castiel with one motion. “Please, daddy. I’ve waited a month. Wanna feel you inside. Been thinkin’ about it for so long…”

Castiel gripped his hips tightly, holding him still, nails barely biting into his skin. Dean hissed, looking down at him with hooded eyes. It happened all at once, a low growl erupting from Castiel’s throat as he pulled down on one of Dean’s arms and threw him to the side using one of his legs, and then he was hovering over him, grinding his hips against his naked crotch, one hand caressing the side of Dean’s neck as he mouthed at the other side. Dean’s breath hitched and he held tightly to the tops of Castiel’s arms, moaning softly, canting his hips upward to meet Castiel’s.

He practically whined with Castiel stopped suddenly, letting out a shuddered breath against Dean’s neck before pulling away completely. He propped himself up over Dean, mouth hanging open slightly, blue eyes black with lust.

“I know you want me, too,” Dean said indignantly. “There’s no point in denying it if it’s what both of us want.”

“It would be irresponsible of me,” Castiel said finally, brow furrowed with regret. “My code is what makes me a good Dom, Dean. I made one mistake today, and I don’t plan to make another.”

“So fucking me would be a mistake to you.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Dean looked away, pointedly ignoring Castiel’s gaze firmly on him. “Right.”

Castiel sighed, a long silence following before he spoke again. “I don’t...I don’t plan on executing a typical scene for your first time anyway, Dean. I want it to be special, because you’re entrusting me with such a important part of you. I...I haven’t had time to plan it, or discuss with you what you want, or anything.”

Dean blinked up at him. “ _That’s_ why you won’t do it now?”

Castiel pressed his lips together, huffing through his nose, and nodded.

Dean closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, trying to decide if he was frustrated or touched by Castiel’s thoughtfulness. It made sense and it showed Castiel actually cared, but it didn’t his current situation. Being which he _still_ hasn’t come and he’s been waiting all damn week for some release. Castiel gave him specific instructions that had prohibited him from masturbating and for an 18-year-old boy with the best porn material anyone could ask for, that was asking a lot. Just thinking of Castiel could get Dean squirming and cause all sorts of embarrassing problems, namely the big bulge in his pants he wasn’t allowed to fix.

“Okay, fine,” Dean sighed, opening his eyes and looking up at Castiel pleadingly. “But please, we gotta do _something_. I was good, wasn’t I?”

Castiel’s lips quirked and he nodded slowly. “Yes, you were a very good boy…”

“And your good boy is very horny,” Dean grumbled, spreading his legs and rubbing his swelling cock against Castiel’s thigh. “Please, daddy. Thought you liked watching me come.”

“I do,” Castiel nodded, glancing down almost casually to watch Dean rut against him. “No one is stopping you. Go ahead.”

Dean pouted and huffed, arching beneath Castiel and sliding his dick up his thigh. Castiel simply raised a brow, not taking the bait.

“You’re being mean,” Dean mumbled, falling back onto the bed with another huff.

“And you’re being a brat.”

“You know, you _could’ve_ just let me come earlier,” Dean grumped, his arms falling to his sides on the bed. “You got greedy and look what happened.”

“What would you have me do?”

Dean took a deep breath and thrust up, dragging his cock against the front of Castiel’s slacks, reaching up to pull at his shirt. “ _Touch_ me.”

Castiel sat back on his calves and grabbed Dean’s wrists, pitching forward as he pinned them above his head, his lips close enough that Dean would only have to lift up marginally to press them together. He resisted, biting his own lip instead, stretching in invitation under him. Castiel held both of his wrists tightly with one hand and reached between them with the other, barely brushing fingertips over the head of Dean’s cock.

Dean shivered and pressed up as much as he could into the touch, pulling weakly against Castiel’s hold on his hands. Castiel looked down between them and back up at Dean, expression smug and innocent all at once.

“Is this what you want?”

“More,” Dean breathed, pleading as hard as he could muster with his eyes alone. He tried to push his hips up again but Castiel let go of his cock in favor of pushing him back down, and he huffed in frustration.

“Impatience will earn you another spanking,” Castiel said coolly, narrowing his eyes. “And judging by the state of your gorgeous little ass, it won’t feel quite as enjoyable as before.”

“I think I’ve earned a little impatience,” Dean said with a slight growl. The grip on his wrists tightened and he whimpered, forcing his body to relax and his muscle to untense. Castiel waited a beat then raised a brow, freeing one hand so he could trace a line down Dean’s naked chest.

“Are you going to be good for me now?”

Dean licked his lips and willed that hand to go lower, his cock straining between their bodies. “Yes, daddy,” he murmured obediently. “I’ll be good…”

Castiel hummed and released Dean’s wrists, giving him a firm look. “Keep those above your head, boy.”

Dean gripped the headboard tightly and watched with wide eyes as Castiel lowered his head, tongue darting out to tease a nipple. Dean hissed and arched, then let out a filthy groan when Castiel reached down to grip his cock.

“This what you want?” Castiel asked softly, looking at Dean with those blue eyes, unblinking and intense.

“Yes,” Dean breathed, canting his hips up briefly then forcing himself to still. “Please, daddy. More…”

“Yes, I suppose my hand isn’t as good as my mouth, hm?”

“Your- oh, _shit_ ,” Dean threw his head back and moaned as Castiel wrapped his lips around his cock. Hot, wet, and tight, and Dean pulled at the headboard so much the wood groaned under the force. Castiel swirled and flicked his tongue expertly around the head, then sunk all the way down, hollowing his cheeks. Dean hadn’t realized fully exactly how on edge he was until then, knowing indisputably that he wouldn’t last very long at all with Castiel working him over.

Castiel pulled off moments later, licking his lips as he looked up at him with a lascivious lust, teasing grin pulling at his lips. “Is this what you wanted, sweet boy?”

Dean nodded furiously, chest rising and falling with panted breath. He stretched beneath him, his hips lifting marginally. Castiel kept his eyes on him as he mouthed at the head, tongue darting out to tease the slit. He swallowed him down again with a deep exhale through his nose, pushing Dean’s thighs apart with his hands, somehow making him feel vulnerable even on the receiving end of a blow job.

He pulled off again after a while, when Dean was a moaning mess, so close to orgasm he could taste it. Castiel chuckled when he whined, giving Dean’s cock a few quick strokes before squeezing the base.

“Just because I’m giving you what you want doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun myself,” he said, giving him a mischievous grin. “And, as much as I’d love to taste you...today, I had my heart set on watching you.”

He sat back on his calves again, moving between Dean’s legs as he silently instructed him to wrap his legs around his waist, the hard cock in his pants pressed against Dean’s crotch. He gripped Dean’s cock, tilting his head down at him as he began to stroke slowly, teasing the slit every few passes.

Dean rutted shamelessly, tossing his head back and forth as he moaned. He tried to watch, but the sight was too much. Castiel’s long fingers moving up and down his shaft, that fat bulge in his pants twitching and pressing up against him deliciously.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Castiel whispered, his hand pausing so he could press his thumb into Dean’s heavily leaking slit. “I’ve never had a Sub this responsive before. This...sensitive to touch. I’m afraid it brings out my crueler side, sweet boy...I just love watching you come apart for me.”

“B-bastard,” Dean gasped, arching when Castiel grinded against him once.

“Watch that mouth, boy,” Castiel said darkly. “I can be even crueler.”

“No, daddy, please,” Dean begged, eyes popping open to look up at Castiel wildly. “I’m a good boy. I’m your good boy…”

Castiel smirked and Dean felt a shiver go down his spine. “Yes you are, sweetheart,” Castiel murmured, his voice low, gravely. “ _My_ good boy.”

Dean closed his eyes again, relishing every small sensation, the feel of Castiel’s fingers wrapped around him, how his other hand caressed the inside of his thigh. Castiel began stroking faster and Dean’s legs trembled as he neared orgasm, only to be denied again with a firm hand squeezing his base. He sobbed and opened his eyes wide, looking up at Castiel pleadingly as he gave his balls a gentle tug, then rolled them deftly between his fingers. He dipped his hand lower, down between his legs, prodding his hole with a finger. Dean jerked and sucked in a breath, shivering violently.

Castiel hummed, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “I bet you wouldn’t last a second if I stretched you open right now. I’ve only barely touched you and you’re ready to explode. I’m going to have so much fun with you, sweet boy. I have so many plans for you.” He released his cock and slid his hands up Dean’s thighs, over his belly, and up to his chest, tweaking a nipple. “Gonna take such good care of you.”

Dean choked on a cry when Castiel took him in hand again and stroked quickly, intermittently flicking a hard nipple with the other hand. Dean half expected him to deny him again when he felt his orgasm quickly approaching, but Castiel surprised him again, watching his face intently as his cock pulsed and spilled into his hand, slicking the way as more streaks landed on his stomach.

Castiel chuckled, only letting go when Dean’s cock finished kicking, spitting out the last bit of his release. Dean’s eyes widened as Cas raised his hand to his lips, sucking a drop of cum from his thumb.

“Oh, yes, boy...I’m going to have so much fun eradicating whatever’s left of your innocence.” He leaned forward, bracing himself with a hand by Dean’s head, holding the same thumb to Dean’s lips and giving a pleased hum when Dean took it in his mouth, sucking gently. He pressed the thumb to Dean’s tongue, pulling his mouth open slightly. “I can just imagine how absolutely sinful you’ll look when I’m buried in that tight little hole of yours. With you whining, _begging_ for your daddy to fill you up.”

“Don’t have to imagine,” Dean panted, his whole body trembling with the aftershocks of his release which was currently cooling on his stomach. “You can fill me up right now, daddy.” Wrung out, loose, and thoughtless, Dean unabashedly spread his legs and Castiel grunted with the effort to close them again.

“You’re persistent,” Castiel growled, his face flushed slightly with arousal. Any reaction at all was a victory for Dean and he grinned lazily, stretching languidly. Castiel looked down at him with dark, narrowed eyes as he dug his nails into the meat of Dean’s thighs.

“It’s only because I want you so much, daddy,” Dean purred, glancing down at Castiel’s crotch and shuddering visibly.

“You can whisper whatever dirty words you want,” Castiel said roughly, a little breathless. “It doesn’t change anything. I decide when my sweet boy gets my cock.”

Dean sighed, but he was too sated to be disappointed. Besides, watching Castiel struggle with his control was a win in its own way and Dean very much liked seeing his Dom unravel just a little bit.

“Minx,” Castiel muttered, climbing off the bed to grab a damp washcloth from the bathroom and quickly returning to clean the sticky mess off Dean’s stomach.

“What do you expect?” Dean snorted. “The way you tease me. I’m _18_. I’m horny even when I’m not awake. And then you come in with your face-”

“My face?”

“-and your hair, and your hips, and those damn thighs, and that big dick-”

“I think I’m blushing.”

“-and how I can I _not_ want that?”

Castiel chuckled wryly as he cleaned the mess off Dean’s stomach, and Dean was surprised to actually see the smallest hint of blush on his cheeks.

“As if you don’t know you have that effect on me,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms childishly over his chest. “Were all your other Subs this...I dunno. Desperate?”

“You’re not desperate,” Castiel said evenly. “You’re attached. And yes, it’s normal, and no, I’m not put off by it. And as for the others… I don’t know. I never dealt with someone as explicitly touch-starved as you, but also, the others were much...quieter than you.” He quirked a smile. “They came to me for a reason, a service, and they knew what they wanted, and I just helped them get there. My... _effect_ on them was not discussed in so many words.”

“Well...yeah, but I mean...they’d have to be at least a little attracted to you, right?”

Castiel shrugged, looking down at as he slowly swiped the rag over Dean’s stomach, folded it over, and cleaned the residual mess.

Dean huffed and looked over at the wall. “Well. Miss MacLeod definitely was.”

Castiel sighed. “Must we discuss this again?”

“Not if you don’t _want_ to.”

“You really are a brat. You know that?”

“Yes,” Dean said simply.

Castiel rolled his eyes and set the washcloth aside. “I think you may be jealous of Miss MacLeod,” he said softly, stretching out beside Dean and spreading his hand over the boy’s chest.

Dean scoffed weakly and stretched out his legs with a small groan. “Why would I be jealous? I’m here and she’s not.”

“Because she’s had what you’ve yet to,” Castiel said with a small shrug. “You saw me with her and once you realized you wanted me too, you’ve been harboring a jealousy towards her.”

“But I have you now,” Dean frowned.

“Not in the way you saw, though,” Castiel tilted his head. “Though we will get there, sweet boy. I’m taking my time with you, savoring it as well as taking precaution to not rush you into this. You’re still very new and I’m still learning how you tick. I haven’t taken you nor have I been so rough or unhinged with you as I was with her that night. You’re jealous because you think she had something with me that you don’t.”

“Didn’t she?” Dean muttered, picking at his nails.

“Not at all,” Castiel snorted. “She had nothing. It was my first real night back in this town. I had barely moved in and was feeling...well, let’s just say, not myself. I drank a little too much and wanted to blow off some steam. She was more than willing, and so I did something I never do. I took a woman I barely knew to bed for one night so I could forget things for a little bit. Not my proudest moment, but...”

“Why?” Dean asked softly.

“Why what?”

“I mean, what happened to you? Why’d you need to...to do that?”

Castiel sighed, looking down at his hand on Dean’s chest. “I was just...having a rough time, is all. I was feeling out of sorts, coming back here after being gone for so long, in between Subs, and I…” he paused, frowning. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with. All that you need to know is that it was not at all typical behavior for me, and most importantly, she never had with me what you do. What you will.”

Dean bit his lip, watching Castiel’s face carefully. He got the feeling there was a lot more to his explanation, but he didn’t dare push. Still, what he’d shared was more personal than Dean expected, admitting that he wasn’t the even, collected Castiel that he’d always known him to be.

“So you don’t...have…?”

“Casual flings?” Castiel snorted, shaking his head. “No. I don’t.”

Dean let out a low whistle. “Bet work was awkward after that.”

Castiel quirked a smile. “A bit.”

“Did she want-”

“Can we stop talking about Rowena now, please? I don’t like to make a habit of reliving my missteps.” Castiel’s voice had a hard edge to it that had Dean’s mouth snapping shut. He still hadn’t looked back up at Dean, instead focusing on the hand stroking his chest. Dean shifted his head against the pillow and reached up slowly, laying his hand on the side of Castiel’s head and gently pulling him toward him, until Castiel stiffly laid his head on Dean’s arm. After a couple of silent moments of Dean watching him, he met his gaze, and Dean gave him a warm smile, pulling a few strands of his wild hair through his fingers. Castiel untensed eventually and the brooding confidence returned, making it easy for both of them to fall back into their respective roles.

\----

“You been gone a lot,” John grunted, barely looking up from the tv as he took a sip from his glass. He kicked his sock feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over the other.

“Oh. Yeah.” Dean handed him a plate with one of the burgers and fries he’d made for dinner, then sat down on the other end of the sofa with his own. “Bobby’s during the week, Castiel’s on Saturdays...don’t feel like I have much free time anymore.”

“Maybe you should take some time off. Don’t want your grades to start slippin’.”

“Grades are actually better than ever,” Dean shrugged, taking a bite of his burger. “Guess I do better when I stay busy.”

John looked over at him for a moment before nodding. “Well, that’s good then, son. Castiel speaks highly of you. Says you have great work ethic.”

Dean swallowed his bite of burger roughly and hoped his dad didn’t see his red cheeks. “Oh, uh, yeah? Must have gotten it from you.”

John snorted and popped a cfy into his mouth. “Certainly didn’t get it from any of those friends of yours.”

“Hey, come on,” Dean shrugged. “I’ll give you Ash, but Benny works harder than anybody at Bobby’s. And Charlie doesn’t get straight A’s by slacking off.”

“What does Ash even do when he’s not at school?” John muttered, mostly to himself.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “I try not to ask.”

“So what does Castiel got you doin’?” John glanced at Dean as he took another bite of his burger.

“Uh, mostly maintenance stuff,” Dean licked his lips. “House is big, you know? Requires a lot of care. Runnin’ toilets, squeaky floorboards...stuff like that. Some of his big lights up in the ceiling needed changing. Ceiling is so damn high you gotta get a ladder.”

That last one was actually true. Castiel very sheepishly asked for assistance in changing those damn things a visit or two ago.

“Guess he doesn’t wanna pay for professionals?” John drawled.

“I dunno,” Dean shrugged, playing with a fry. “I don’t think he likes people. Doesn’t want them in his house.”

“Castiel never liked people,” John snorted. “Preferred his gadgets and whatnot. Never even dated I don’t think. Can’t say I blame him. He was roughed up in school, bullied a lot.”

Dean swallowed and glanced at his dad, frowning slightly. “Dad, you didn’t…”

“No, no,” John waves his hand. “Look, I wasn’t best friends with the guy, but I wasn’t a bully, either. Back then, you know, it just wasn’t cool to be smart. Plus, he was just...an odd guy. Made for easy pickings for shitheads with nothin’ better to do.”

“Can’t imagine him bein’ the type easily picked on,” Dean mumbled through a mouthful of food.

“Oh, yeah. You wouldn’t know it lookin’ at him now, but he was this-” John chuckled, shaking his head, “scrawny little fella back in high school. Tall and gangly and...well, like I said, _weird_. But I always...respected him, you know? Any kid that can take a beating like he did as often as he did and show his face each day at that school like nothin’ ever happened…” he nodded absently at the tv. “Yeah, he won’t scared of nothin’, I’ll give him that. Call it brave or stupid.”

“That’s…” Dean shook his head incredulously, feeling overwhelmingly sad for Castiel, even knowing what he became and how little that horrid past seemed to bother him.

John glanced over at him and frowned, waving a hand dismissively. “Aw, it won’t nothin’ back then, Dean. It won’t bullyin’ then, it was just part of bein’ a guy. Some people were just easier targets than others. Although…” John frowned, scratching his cheek. “There were a couple times they got ‘im real good...at least once where he ended up with stitches, on his, uh...lip somewhere. I dunno.” He shrugged. “But look at him now. Goes to show how little high school actually defines you. Remember that.”

He opened his mouth to speak when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find a text message from Castiel.

Cas: _Have a request. Call me when you get the chance._

Dean let out a breath and looked nervously up at his dad, as if the man could tell who the text was from just by the look on Dean’s face. He wasn’t even paying attention, taking large bites of his burger as he watched ESPN.

“I think I’m gonna go ahead to get Sam,” Dean said absently, tucking his phone back in his pocket and standing.

John looked down at his watch. “‘S only quarter to 6. Thought you was gettin’ him at 7?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Dean said quickly, formulating an on-the-spot lie. “But I gotta run by the store anyway, pick up a couple things for dinners this week. Need anything?”

John shook his head, shoving a few fries in his mouth. Dean dropped his plate on the counter in the kitchen and grabbed his keys, slipping quickly outside and dialing Cas’s number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Cas, what’s-”

“I want you to make yourself available a month from Saturday. I have to make a trip back up to New York and I want you to accompany me.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he shifted on his feet, glancing around the driveway. “To-to New York?” He asked, fiddling with his keys. “You want me to go to New York with you?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “It’s just for a few days. And I believe it is during your spring break, correct?”

Dean closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “Month from...yeah, yes. I’ll be on spring break.”

“Excellent,” Dean heard some shifting around. “You can tell your father it’s for a possible internship. To test your knowledge, so to speak. I’ll have more details later, if he presses you.”

Dean swallowed, his heart beating a little faster. “Y-Yeah, okay. I’m sure we can make it work. Uh, does this involve a plane?”

“Yes, why?”

Dean clenched his fingers around his keys and took a deep breath. “I, uh, don’t do well on planes. They...make me, uh, nervous.”

There was a pause at the other end, then: “I’ll see what I can do. Worst case scenario we will just have to drive, if you truly don’t want to fly...but that will prolong our trip by at least a day. I _do_ know of some medication that could possibly help you. And I’ll be there, of course, if that helps you feel a little calmer.”

“Sure.” Dean swallowed again, finally remembering himself and getting in the car, turning the engine over. He backed out of the drive and started down the road. “So, uh. What are you goin’ back to New York for?”

“My old company wants me to come in as a consult,” Castiel said, the sound of papers shuffling in the background. Dean could imagine him sitting at his desk, his glasses on his nose, frowning down at his paperwork, sleeves rolled to his elbows and that fucking blue tie hanging messily around his neck. The image had his dick twitching.

“What for?”

“The new software they’re testing has a few bugs and they want to see if I can help sort them out. It’s a continuation of the software I helped to develop, so they think I’d be of particular help.”

“Well...won’t you?”

There’s another pause. “Of course.”

Dean snorted, and he didn’t know whether it was over Castiel being unintentionally funny or that he was only stating fact and was in no way trying to sound cocky. To be such an intelligent man, his occasional naivety about certain things was adorable.

“So no humility about you, huh?”

“I hardly see the point in this particular instance.” There was a hint of a smile in Castiel’s voice, and Dean found himself grinning at the road in front of him like an idiot before clearing his throat roughly.

“Guess I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Of course.”

Dean nodded, lowering his phone to hang up as Castiel rarely said goodbye anyway, when he heard the man speak again.

“And Dean?”

He raised his phone back to his ear with a cocked brow. “Yeah?”

“I ask that you...practice this week. With the gift I gave you. If you need encouragement…” he paused, and even through the phone Dean knew he was smirking, “feel free to give me a call. I’m always up late.”

Dean didn’t manage to get any words out before the line went dead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is lovingly dedicated to our good friend anupalya. Love and hugs to you. <3

Dean didn’t call that night, or the night after that. On Wednesday night, well after 11 when both his brother and dad were asleep, Dean tapped a finger on his phone screen as he fought the nerves knotting his stomach. It was stupid to feel this nervous about a phone call, but Castiel in general made him nervous anyway. They’d never spoken much on the phone, or even during the week, for that matter. Most of their interactions were left for Saturday until their normal lives started up again on Sunday, and thus the cycle continued. 

And this wasn’t a good  _ normal _ phone call either. It was clear what Castiel’s intentions were and that made Dean all the more anxious about it. With all his tech savvy ways, he never did the whole “sexting” thing. He preferred things in person, not to mention how awkward it seemed to him. 

Castiel had a voice made for sex, though. Perfect for giving orders over the phone. 

Dean huffed and shifted on the bed. He was nude, a leg hiked up, the toy sitting innocently beside him. He hadn’t started yet, knowing that if he did call Castiel would want to take him apart himself. His dick was ready to go, however, standing proud and eager. Dean gripped it loosely and hit ‘call’ before he could chicken out. Again. Like he did the first two nights. 

Castiel picked up after the second ring. 

“Hello.” 

No upward inflection, no pretense of not knowing who or why he was being called. He knew it was Dean and he knew  _ exactly  _ what Dean wanted. His voice was deep, gravel on whiskey, and softly hushed. Intimate. 

“Hey, daddy,” Dean spoke quietly, half afraid to wake someone up. “I need some encouragement.” 

He heard the squeak of Castiel's office chair as he leaned back. There was a long pause and Dean hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until his lungs began to ache. He let it out slowly, shakily, and attempted to relax, carefully untensing his muscles.

“Are you touching yourself?” came Castiel’s voice finally, low and steady.

“Yes.”

Castiel hummed, the sound strangely comforting and arousing all at once. “Good boy. Now close your eyes, spread your legs. Slowly stroke yourself. I don’t want you to come just yet.”

Dean did as he was told, splaying his legs out as far as he comfortably could, loosely stroking his half hard cock.

“I’ve been waiting for your call.” There was another squeak of the chair, followed by other indecipherable sounds on the other end of the line. “It’s been a long week. Seeing you this weekend is the only thing driving me at this point.”

Dean moved his hand slowly up his shaft, over the head and back down. “You’ve missed me, daddy?”

“Mmm, very much, sweet boy.” Another pause. “Once you’ve gotten yourself hard, lube up your fingers and begin prepping yourself for the toy. Go nice and slow. I want to savor this time I have with you.”

Getting hard wasn’t a problem, not with Castiel’s voice growling in his ear. He grabbed the lube, fumbling with it for a moment before uncapping and squeezing out a generous amount. He coated his fingers and circled his rim, breath coming out in soft pants.

“Just one finger,” Castiel murmured. 

Dean obeyed, sliding in the first finger and sighing, his muscles clenching around the intrusion briefly before they loosened up. It felt a little strange, but then it was so good the slightly foreign feeling was easy to ignore. 

“How is it?” Castiel asked, voice nothing more than a whisper.

“‘S good, daddy,” Dean breathed, eyes fluttering. 

“You like having something inside you?”

“Yes,” Dean moaned, wiggling his finger around and making his cock twitch in his other hand. He felt so sensitive down there, every little twitch of his finger sending sparks up his spine and dick. It was...wonderful, addicting, something he definitely wanted more of. 

“You want another finger, baby?”

Dean nodded before realizing Castiel couldn’t see it. “Yes, daddy, please…”

“Go ahead, sweet boy.”

Dean groaned softly as he added the second finger, slowly thrusting them in and out and scissoring himself open. The phone was pressed tightly between his pillow and head, eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open.

He could hear Castiel breathing into the phone, could imagine him sitting at his desk, phone pressed to his ear, pupils dilated, cock swollen in his slacks. 

“Can’t wait to hear the sounds you make when I finally take you,” Castiel said lowly. “I imagine you’ll be quite vocal. That’s good. I like to hear how good my Subs are feeling.”

Dean pressed his fingers deep, brushing that sensitive spot, stars exploding behind his eyes. He moaned loudly, as if to prove a point, and Castiel hummed. 

“Okay, now I want you to use the toy. Use plenty of lube. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Dean grabbed the dildo and lube, adding plenty of lube to both the toy and his hole before pressing it just inside. He exhaled heavily as he started pushing it deeper, pausing every so often to give himself time to adjust. Castiel listened quietly on the other end of the line, only the sound of his breathing as encouragement.

“I can just imagine what you look like right now,” Castiel said, his voice only just giving the smallest hint of any lack of composure. “Jesus. I wish I could express the things you do to me, pretty boy.”

“If it’s anything like what you do to me,” Dean panted, pausing to groan as the toy settled inside as deep as he could get it. “Then I might already have an idea.”

Castiel chuckled lowly, a hint of smugness in his voice. “And what do I do to you, boy?”

“Drive me fuckin’ nuts,” Dean grunted, planting his feet on the bed and arching slightly as he adjusted his grip on the dildo. “Always on my mind. In my dreams. Can’t wait to get back to you, get back to my daddy...hate it when I have to leave you.”

“You miss your daddy, baby?”

“Yeah,” Dean whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as he started to pump the dildo slowly, shuddering. “Wish I was with you now.”

“Not too much longer, sweet boy,” Castiel breathed, and Dean heard some rustling, the clink of a belt, and he knew Castiel had that thick cock out and in his hand. “Couple more days and you’re mine again.”

“Not enough,” Dean grumbled.

“Greedy,” Castiel chuckled huskily. “You got that toy nice and deep, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Already fucking yourself on it?”

Dean moaned and arched, pumping it a little faster. “Yes…”

“So impatient,” Castiel hummed. “You must enjoy it, hm? Having something fill you up?”

“I want  _ you _ to fill me up,” Dean growled, rotating his hips. 

“I know, baby. In time.” 

Dean was prepared to demand  _ when exactly  _ when he heard Castiel’s low groan and harsh breath, and all coherent thought was out the window save for what he imagined was going on at the other end of the line. 

“You touchin’ yourself for me, daddy?”

“Can’t seem to help myself,” Castiel breathed, belt clinking through the line again. “If I can’t have you, can’t see you...best I can do is listen and imagine. And I’m very much enjoying the recycled images of you in my mind. I’m looking forward-” a groan, “to making new ones.”

Dean took a shaky breath, cock leaking in his hand as he pressed the toy up on an inward thrust, his balls drawing up tight.

“You can come whenever you’re ready, my sweet boy. I want to hear you. I want you to take me with you.”

Dean moaned and fucked himself with the toy, stroking his cock as quickly as he could with his other hand. The obscene squelching of the toy as he pumped it in and out of his hole was enough to redden his cheeks, and he vaguely wondered if Castiel could hear it through the line. A shuddered breath from Castiel’s end was all it took to push Dean the rest of the way, and he came all over his stomach with a choked cry.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Castiel breathed, followed by a soft grunt and relieved panting. “Look what you’ve made me do, boy. I should make you come over here and clean this mess up.”

Dean closed his eyes and moaned weakly at the thought, chest rising and falling as he panted into his pillow. The phone laid beside his head and he could hear Castiel chuckle breathlessly. 

“You like that idea,” Castiel hummed, and there was a rustle of fabric as he tucked himself away. “You want to come clean up daddy’s cum, sweet boy?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Dean sighed, his hand finally falling away from his spent cock as he slowly pulled the dildo free. He grimaced slightly and half-heartedly wiped it clean with the hand towel he’d grabbed before. “Wanna taste you so bad, daddy.” 

“Hm, I may let you. If you’re good.” 

“I’m always good,” Dean pouted slightly and stretched out languidly, moaning in pure satisfaction. 

“If you keep up those noises you’re going to get me all riled up again.” 

Dean smirked and turned into his side, pressing the phone closer to his ear. “Nothing wrong with that.” 

“You don’t want to encourage my libido, boy,” Castiel growled. “I can keep you going all night if I want to.” 

Dean swallowed and shuddered. “Big talk, old man,” he smirked slightly, unable to help himself. He was a brat, after all. “I’d like to see you prove that.” 

Castiel just chuckled again, low and dark. There was some more shuffling and when he spoke again his voice was slightly louder, clear, like he was speaking directly into the mic. 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean huffed when the line went dead, rolling onto his back and wondering just what the hell he’d really gotten himself into.

\----

Dean pulled up to the house and put the car in park, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He still had a few minutes until time to go in, and considering this morning felt different than the others, he was a little nervous to do so. Castiel had him eat breakfast before he came this time, giving him no particular reason why, and instructing specifically that he ingest a good source of protein and a healthy amount of fruit. It’d been about an hour since he’d eaten, which was good, because his stomach was flip-flopping with nerves.

After a few careful deep breaths, Dean got out of the car and slipped through the front door. It was strange not to smell breakfast cooking or hear Castiel humming quietly under his breath as he stirred eggs, or sliced fruit, or worked on whatever he was making at the time. Just to be sure, Dean poked his head into the kitchen and, seeing it empty, meandered past the stupidly huge living room and into the smaller sitting room. He found Castiel...pacing, and if Dean didn’t know any better he’d say his Dom looked just a little nervous...which made his stomach flip-flop even more. 

Dean licked his lips and stepped a little closer, opening his mouth to speak when it was clear Castiel hadn’t noticed him yet. 

“Daddy…” 

Castiel’s head snapped up and he immediately stepped forward and pulled Dean into his arms and sighed softly. 

“Hello, sweet boy,” he murmured, smiling slightly when Dean sank into his embrace. “My apologies. I’m afraid I didn’t notice the time, otherwise I would have greeted you at the door.”

Dean shrugged, uncaring. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” Castiel chuckled, kissing his head and moving his hand up and down Dean’s back. “That phone call was simply not enough. I may have to schedule you for more than one day a week.” 

“I’d like that,” Dean whispered, pressing his face against Castiel’s chest.

Castiel pulled away after a few moments, taking Dean’s face between his hands and lowering slightly to his height, looking him sincerely in the eyes. 

“Today’s a special day, my boy. We’re not going to the den today.”

Dean’s face fell slightly, his stomach twisting into knots. His voice came out soft and shaky, the inflection akin to a small child who’d been chastised. “Did I do something wrong?”

Castiel frowned, opening his mouth to speak and closing it again, shaking his head, his expression relaxing as he seemed to understand Dean’s confusion. “No! No, baby, not at all. Today we’re going to your room. Because today, my sweet boy-” he stroked Dean’s cheek with his thumb, a small smile pulling at his lips, “today, I’m going to fuck you.”

Dean tried not to let on exactly how excited he felt, knowing a good deal of it was nerves anyway. His heart leapt in his chest and his breath hitched in his throat, the hands on Castiel’s waist tightening into his shirt.

He instinctively pressed closer, practically vibrating with anticipation and anxiety, his cock already twitching inside his jeans. Dean clung to Castiel and took a deep breath, nuzzling his chest. 

“You’re not...teasing me, right? This is real?” he asked in a small voice, almost afraid he was going to wake up to another very frustrating morning wood.

“Of course I’m not teasing you,” Castiel said softly, sliding a hand up Dean’s shirt. “We’ve waited long enough. You’re more than ready for me. I admit I procrastinated somewhat. I just want it to be...right. I want it to feel good. I want to take my time opening you up. I want you to be comfortable with me, trust me completely…”

“I am. I do,” Dean said earnestly, looking up at Castiel and licking his lips. “It’s not like it has to be perfect, Cas. I’m not a blushing bride or some shit. I don’t need candles and a serenade.”

“That’s good,” Castiel said dryly. “I can’t sing.”

Dean cracked a smile. “And I know it’s gonna hurt at first. But we’ve already established I like a little pain, and I love your cock, and I’ve wanted you to fuck me since I first saw you. I’ve dreamed about wrapping my legs around these hips of yours.”

Castiel’s eyes darkened and he pulled Dean impossibly closer, lips brushing his ear. “I’ve thought about this many times, boy,” he grumbled, gently pushing at Dean until he slowly began to walk backwards. “So many different positions, scenarios, places...so many ways I can pound into that cute little ass.” 

Dean’s mouth was dry and he stumbled backwards slightly. Castiel suddenly picked him and Dean’s legs automatically wrapped around the man’s waist, tight and secure. He felt Castiel’s hard cock pressing against him and shivered, his arms hooking around Castiel’s neck.

“But I decided,” Castiel continued as he walked them to the stairs, holding Dean’s weight easily. “That for this first time, something more...traditional is best suited. Just you and me, and a big bed, and a whole day of my cock buried inside you.”

Dean pressed his forehead to Castiel's as they began to ascend the steps slowly. “A whole day?”

Castiel hummed. “Perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. Not sure we should attempt a whole day for your first time… could get pretty uncomfortable.” He splayed his fingers over Dean's spine, one arm supporting most of the weight under him. “And even traditional will require aftercare.”

“Don’t think that’s necessary,” Dean mumbled, closing his eyes.

“Maybe not,” Castiel admitted. “Call it a character flaw.”

Dean snorted, tightening his hold around Castiel’s neck as they reached the top of the stairs. “You sayin’ you can’t  _ help _ but take care of me?”

“Yes,” Castiel said simply, walking him down the hall and letting go of his back briefly to open the door. Dean finally opened his eyes and looked around, finding the curtains pulled, shrouding the room in darkness. The only light came from a small vintage lamp in the corner with a cutout metal shade, casting various shapes of light along the ceiling. The room smelled of lavender, a few small candles adorning the bedside table, and the bed was made up with various blankets and pillows. It looked like a completely different room, much more cozy than it looked the day after their failed scene. 

Castiel sat him down on the edge of the bed, sliding his hands down his thighs as he knelt in front of him and looked up into his eyes. He reached up, stroking along his cheekbone with a thumb before cupping his cheek.

“Now,” he said softly, smiling slightly when Dean leaned into the touch, but it was gone just as quickly, the sincerity back. “Are you absolutely  _ sure  _ you’re ready?”

Dean barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes and sighed, nuzzling Castiel’s palm. “Yes, I’m ready,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. “ _ Been _ ready. Please don’t make me wait another month.”

Castiel chuckled and traced Dean’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Alright, I can take a hint. I was just being thorough.”

“I’ll carve it into stone if you want,” Dean grumbled, earning an amused huff from the older man. 

“Very well,” Castiel said dryly. “Shall I put on music?”

“Don’t you dare,” Dean glared at him. “You’re already pushing it with the damn candles. Just fuck m-” 

He never got to finish, the last word ending in a gasp as Castiel suddenly pushed on his chest hard enough to send him sprawling on his back. Dean blinked at the ceiling, a bit dazed, and twitched when he felt Castiel tug at a leg. Dean swallowed, letting the man settle between his thighs after spreading them wide. The heat inside the room rose and the easy banter died, leaving Dean to stare wide-eyed up at Castiel who loomed over him, his body pushing him into the mattress. The weight was comforting and Dean arched up into it, a leg wrapping around Castiel’s waist and squeezing.

“I’m still dressed,” he murmured, eyeing Castiel’s clothes and pausing to tug at his tie. “You, too.”

“So we are,” Castiel tilted his head. “I suppose we should take care of that. I can’t decide if I want to rip it all off or go slow…”

“You rip it, you buy it,” Dean said hoarsely, his weak attempt at covering up how nervous he actually was. 

Castiel didn’t answer and sat back on his calves, running his hands up and down Dean’s legs. 

“I have a better idea,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re going to undress for me. Slowly. So I can see every gorgeous inch of you.”

Dean only allowed himself a moment of shyness before deciding that this was his opportunity to see his Dom out of sorts for once, so he pushed himself up to his knees, kneeling across from Castiel with his legs spread as far as they would comfortably go. Castiel’s eyes followed his hands down to the hem of his shirt and all the way up as Dean slowly pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor. Those eyes were quickly back on Dean’s face, his hands clenched by his sides, lips slightly parted. Dean moved his hands to his waistband, unbuttoning his jeans and inching down the zipper, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room. He laid back, looking up at Castiel as he slid his jeans and underwear down his thighs, his cock springing free with a soft  _ slap _ against his stomach. Castiel licked his lips and leaned forward slightly, helping free Dean’s legs from his jeans and tossing them to the side as well. He wordlessly took over from there, wrapping long fingers around each ankle to pull off his socks and dropping them to the floor to join the rest of Dean’s clothes.

Dean laid back and shivered despite the warmth of the room- one might even say it was overly warm- but his reaction had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Castiel looked at him. Castiel kept his gaze on him as he bowed down between his legs, turning his head at the last second to press a kiss to his pelvis, then a few more down the inside of his thigh. Finally he sat up again and motioned Dean forward.

“Now I want you to undress me.”

Dean eagerly got to his knees and licked his lips as he reached for the tie. It was silky against his skin and strangely intimate as he loosened it, sliding it off with a soft  _ hiss _ . He paused, holding it in his hand, then pointedly set it aside on the mattress. Castiel raised a brow, but didn’t say anything, watching Dean work each button of shirt open. The material slid off his shoulders and fluttered to the floor, and Dean swallowed as he reached for the belt. It clanked as he pulled it free, the movement tugging Castiel’s hips forward. The zipper came next, careful as Dean worked it over the large bulge Castiel was sporting. Together, they pulled Castiel free of his slacks and they were discarded to the floor.

Dean sat back and bit his lip when Castiel gripped himself, stroking once and squeezing the base.

“This what you want, sweet boy?” Castiel asked lowly, blue eyes boring into Dean’s wide green ones.

“Yes,” Dean choked, blushing when his hole twitched. “Yes, daddy. Please…”

“On your stomach,” Castiel demanded. “Spread that gorgeous body for me. I’m going to take my time with you, boy, explore every little bit of you.”

Dean obeyed eagerly, his head resting on the plush pillows with his arms underneath, his legs spread and the natural curve of his back highlighted by the dim lighting. His heart pounded, his muscles twitched, and his hands clenched under the pillows. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. He was no virgin; at least, not by traditional standards. He hadn’t been nervous at all with Lisa, but this felt...different. Much more intimate, emotional, life-changing. Dean knew once he did this there was no going back, no getting over this man. Nothing and no one else would ever satisfy him the way Castiel does, the way he knew he would now. 

He felt Castiel behind him, the man’s hands ghosting up his backside and squeezing his hips, flexing his fingers over the bone and pressing his fingertips into the skin. Goosebumps erupted all over Dean’s body as he continued to survey him, touch him, admire him. He squeezed the globes of Dean’s ass and pulled, Dean’s hole clenching at the cool air. Castiel ran a thumb over the puckered muscle, sighing softly when Dean let out a groan.

“Oh yes, I’m going to enjoy this very much,” Castiel said, mostly to himself. “So responsive. You’re a fucking dream, boy.”

Dean didn’t really know what the fuck to say to that, so he just pushed back against him in his best attempt at enticement. He felt the bed shift and cracked open an eye to see Castiel pull the bottle of lube from the bedside table, hearing the telltale pop of the cap a second later. There was a wet sound as Castiel rubbed his fingers together, and Dean jumped a second later when he pressed them to his hole.

With the speed in which things were progressing, Dean fully expected to be teased mercilessly before Castiel would actually begin stretching him open, and so he was taken by surprise when he unceremoniously pushed one of his long fingers to the second knuckle, crooking it downwards.

Dean gasped and clenched around the finger, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He arched his back, pushing his hips towards Castiel, seeking more. Castiel rewarded him by slipping the digit in deeper, hand pressed against Dean’s ass as he gently rubbed with the pad of his finger.

“You didn’t stretch yourself last night,” Castiel’s voice seemed so close, so deep and loud in the otherwise silent room.

“Y-you told me not to,” Dean stuttered, squirming against the sheets and fighting the urge to rut into the mattress. 

“Yes,” Castiel circled his rim with a second finger, slowly slipping it inside alongside the other. “Such a good boy. Kept yourself nice and tight for me.” He leaned over Dean, pressing against his back, and nipped at his ear.

“Do you know how much I’ve thought of this?” he whispered, making Dean moan and shudder. “Finally getting to touch you, feel you...I can’t describe how good it is, sweet boy. You’re so sensitive, too…” Castiel paused, scissoring his fingers and watching Dean gasp and thrust into the bed. “I’m obsessed with the way your body responds.”

Dean whined low in his throat when Castiel slipped both fingers out and pushed back, hoping to entice Castiel back inside.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Castiel chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of Dean’s neck, then down between his shoulders. “I’m afraid I got a little impatient. That pretty little hole was just begging to be touched. I had to indulge myself.”

“So get back to it,” Dean growled in frustration, pressing his hips back again. 

“Patience, boy,” Castiel murmured, nipping at the skin on his shoulder. “I’m going to take care of you. You just focus on enjoying it.”

“I will if you finally  _ let me _ ,” Dean ground out, yelping softly when Castiel’s hand connected with his backside and groaning when he pulled his hair, forcing his head back. Dean swallowed hard, arching his back against Castiel when the man leaned over him, pressing his hard cock against his backside.

“Do you want my cock, boy?”

Dean gulped, stretching to pull slightly against Castiel’s grip on his hair. “Yes, daddy, please-”

“Then perhaps you should keep your smart comments to yourself until  _ after _ I’m buried inside of you, what do you think?”

Dean couldn’t nod but before he could speak Castiel roughly released his hair, letting his head fall forward and body relax as he panted softly. Then Castiel’s hands were on him again, sliding down his back, pulling up on his hips to position him and plunging those two fingers back inside, dragging the pads of his fingers against his prostate, causing him to tense as a shiver ran through his body. He held Dean’s hip firmly with his other hand, squeezing every so often when he’d pull his fingers out only to push them back in again.

Dean wasn’t prepared for the chill when Castiel squirted more lube around his fingers. He dropped his forehead to the bed and let out a string of unintelligible obscenities while Castiel shushed him, sliding the hand from his hip up between his shoulders. He worked him over for the next several minutes, encouraging the leaking cock between his legs. Finally he retracted his fingers, tapping Dean gently on his ass.

“Roll over. Hand me that pillow.”

Dean did as he was told, looking up at Castiel with heavy eyes, mouth hanging open as he tried to catch his breath and calm his nerves. Castiel watched him intently as he adjusted him into a comfortable position, situating the pillow under his lower back and the curve of his ass. He reached over to the bedside table again and pulled out a condom, and he tore open the packet and pinched the tip of it as he rolled it onto his length.

“Relax,” he said softly, reaching forward to lay his hand on Dean’s abdomen, rubbing soothingly. Dean nodded, trying his best but mostly failing, a mix of nervousness and excitement tensing his muscles. Castiel settled between his legs, rubbing the head of his cock against Dean’s rim. He curled a hand around the underside of Dean’s thigh, holding the base of his own cock as he pushed slowly, pausing when the head popped just past his rim. 

Dean arched and let out a breath, closing his eyes and pushing his head into the pillow. Castiel gripped his other thigh, using them both as a means to push himself further inside as he pulled Dean slowly down onto his cock. Dean felt everything; the delicious stretch of every inch he took in, the slight pinch of Castiel’s nails digging into his thighs, the twitching of the man’s cock inside him.

“Your little hole feels just as good as I imagined,” Castiel breathed, pressing his tongue against his bottom lip, hair mussed and eyes wild. “Look at you, my sweet boy...this is where you were supposed to be. Made for my cock, baby.”

Dean choked on a moan and tried to grind down, but Castiel’s grip on his thighs was steel, holding him place. This wasn’t what he expected to feel the first time. He’d expected discomfort, pain, an awkward pause while he tried to adjust to the girth. Instead there was only the slightest burn from the intrusion and the most unbelievable pleasure Dean had ever felt. Castiel had barely begun, had hardly moved at all, and Dean was a throbbing mess. His back was perpetually arched in a desperate attempt to get  _ more _ , more of that stretch, more of that overwhelming  _ fullness _ , more of Castiel and that cock buried inside. 

Dean groaned when he felt a firm hand just below his neck, pushing him down and keeping him there as Castiel sunk in further. He seemed to go on forever, inching inside, getting deeper than Dean was ever able to achieve with his toy, until he finally bottomed out with a grunt. Unable to move, Dean was a babbling mess, begging and praising, ‘daddy’ and ‘Castiel’ both falling from his lips as he clawed at the sheets. The sensations were wild, freeing and grounding, keeping him in the moment while allowing it slip into the rare state of mind he could only seem to achieve with Castiel. He was full, stretched, wrapped around a deliciously twitching cock with the weight of Castiel’s body pressing down on him. It was perfect, just what Dean needed, just what he wanted. 

“How does it feel, sweetheart?” Castiel asked, stroking his hair, his neck, only a hint of concern in his voice. 

“‘S sogood,” Dean slurred, moving his hips and whimpering when Castiel nudged his prostate. “Oh,  _ fuck _ , daddy, feel so fucking perfect. Fuck me, please,  _ Jesus- so full _ -“

Castiel chuckled darkly, relaxing when he realized Dean’s incoherency wasn’t from pain but from pure pleasure. “ _ Fuck _ , this little virgin hole of yours is so tight. You feel even better than I imagined, look so fucking good…”

He pressed his full weight to Dean’s front and sucked a bruise onto his collarbone as he snapped his hips forward, reaching up to lay his hand on the side of Dean’s neck as he mouthed along the other side, breath hot on his skin. Dean took the opportunity to touch Castiel, to lay his palms flat against his shoulder blades and slide them down his surprisingly trim waist, pressing them to the small of his back. He was forced to let go when Castiel pulled back, sitting up on his knees and angling Dean upward with his hands under his thighs to drive into him. He fucked him hard, thoroughly, a purpose to each snap of his hips. Dean stopped caring early on how loud he was being, eyes rolling back in his head as he clutched at the sheets, only opening them when Castiel demanded for him to. The last time Castiel leaned forward, bracing himself with a hand by his head and grabbing his chin roughly with the other.

“Look at me, pretty boy,” Castiel said lowly, tonguing the boy’s upper lip, teasing, as he thrust forward. “That’s it, eyes on me. You gonna come for your daddy, boy?”

Dean swallowed hard and nodded, his cheeks starting to ache where Castiel’s fingertips were pressed. “Yes, daddy.”

Castiel made a noise somewhere between a groan and a hum, sitting back again and holding Dean by his hips as he began pounding into him. “Show me.”

Dean reached up to grip the headboard with one hand, the other fisting the sheets as he rolled his hips as much as he could, impaling himself on Castiel’s dick as the man snapped forward with every thrust. He kept his eyes open wide, darting between Castiel’s flushed face and where their bodies met, skin slapping against skin so roughly that Dean bet he would have bruises the following day. His cock bobbed, red and leaking, neglected. Dean didn’t dare reach for it. Castiel was going make him come on his cock alone or not at all. 

Perfectly fine with Dean, considering how close he was already and how  _ good _ it felt to have that cock filling him up, pumping in and out, hitting his prostate with every couple of thrusts. It was just enough to push him to the edge and keep him there, sending sparks of pleasure up and down his ass and cock, his balls tightening. 

“Daddy,” he whimpered brokenly, thighs quivering as Castiel’s fingers dug in. 

“That’s it, baby,” Castiel praised, taking a leg and wrapping it around his waist. “Come on, come for me, sweet boy. Show me how much you love it.”

Dean was wrecked, the sounds of his pleasure filling the room, loud and shameless. He arched and groaned and pleaded, undone and unhinged. Castiel angled his thrust, getting in deep and hard, and Dean was crying out as he came all over himself. Streaks of cum painted his stomach and chest, his cock kicking, his throat raw as he sobbed and tossed his head. 

“ _ Fuckin’ Christ _ ,” Castiel panted, eyes burning holes as he looked down at Dean’s body. “Beautiful, baby, just beautiful. C'mere.”

He hauled Dean up into his lap, Dean's arms automatically wrapping around his neck, cum smearing between their bodies. Castiel held tightly around his waist, the fingers of his other hand splayed across his thigh just below his hip as he looked up at him and mouthed along his jaw. The new angle pushed him impossibly deeper and Dean let out a choked sob as Castiel mercilessly fucked into him, panting against his ear, whispering words of encouragement. Dean ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, gripping it tightly and moaning brokenly, all but useless to do anything but hold on. He let his head fall back and Castiel mouthed at and kissed his Adam's apple, grunting as his hips finally stilled and he pulled Dean down against him. 

“I love you so much, sweet boy,” Castiel whispered softly, breathlessly, kissing his neck, his cheek. He held tightly to Dean's middle as he lowered him back to down into the blankets and pillows, and suddenly Dean was incredibly thankful for them and the effort Cas had gone through to make him feel comfortable, to make the event special. 

Castiel kissed down his neck and to his chest before pulling out gently and laying down beside him, taking Dean in his arms. 

Dean went easily, boneless and utterly spent, his sweaty body pressing close to Castiel. It was entirely too warm, but that didn’t stop him from cuddling close and resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder. 

He sighed deeply, eyes closed as Castiel massaged and pet down his back. His heart slowly began to settle, the sweat cooling on his skin, and the mess on his stomach becoming sticky. Dean didn’t move, though, too comfortable to care and having no desire to pull away from Castiel’s safe embrace. 

Eventually Dean lifted his head and cleared his throat, his voice nearly gone at this point. “Said you loved me,” he croaked, blinking up at Castiel. 

A pause then a slow nod. “Yes,” Castiel murmured, cupping his cheek. “Of course I do. That’s what I’m here for. To love you.” 

Dean leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. Something about those words, the way Castiel phrased them so carefully, rang wrong in his ears. A red flag waved, telling Dean that perhaps they didn’t mean what he thought they meant. What he wanted them to mean. But he was tired, and so completely satisfied he couldn’t move, and so  _ happy _ and cared for that he pushed the doubts away almost as soon as they reared their ugly heads. 

“I love you, too,” Dean said softly, swallowing past his raw throat. “So much.” 

Castiel slid his hand around to the back of Dean’s head and pulled him forward to press a kiss to his forehead. He groaned as he sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

Dean frowned up at him, immediately missing his warmth. “Where you goin’?”

Castiel reached over and squeezed Dean’s hip, giving him a smile. “Just gonna clean us up a bit. I’ll be right back.”

Dean nodded and waited as Castiel got up and crossed the room. He discarded of the condom and walked back to the bed with a towel, which he used to clean the mess off Dean’s stomach, then his own. Dean grimaced slightly when he swiped a hand across the sticky residue still on his stomach.

“Sorry about that,” Castiel grunted, laying back down and taking him in his arms. “I’ll run us a bath in a little while, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” Dean mumbled, resting his head back on Castiel’s arm and wrapping his arms around him as best he could. “You know I'll be fine, if-”

“I know,” Castiel said softly, brushing a few stray hairs off Dean's forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Dean hummed thoughtfully, doing a full scan of his physical and mental status. “Mm, little sore...heavy, like a sack of potatoes.”

Castiel huffed a small laugh. “This is good, right?”

Dean smiled and nodded. “Very good. Feel...really, really good. And like I could sleep for about a year.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment because I wore you out,” Castiel pressed a kiss to Dean’s head. “And not because I bored you.”

Dean snorted and shook his head, a hand sliding between their bodies to lay flat on Castiel’s chest. “No, no, you were...um, very good. At that. I didn’t think it could be that good. And I’m not just blowin’ smoke up your ass.”

“I prefer honesty over smoke, yes,” Castiel nodded, a smile tugging on his lips before his face grew serious. “But I didn’t hurt you? I’m afraid...well, you felt...wonderful, I may have gotten carried away-”

“Cas, it was fuckin’ awesome,” Dean interrupted, tracing a pattern on his chest. “You didn’t hurt me. You could’ve slapped me and I wouldn’t have noticed, I was so far gone.”

“Mmm, maybe next time,” Castiel teased, folding his hand over Dean’s, holding it to his chest. “Well...I’m glad it was enjoyable for you. Certainly for me.”

Dean quirked a smile. “Yeah?”

“Better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Castiel said sincerely. “And you responded so positively, it was...encouraging.”

Dean huffed. “Right. Well glad I could  _ encourage  _ you.” He looked down at their hands, running a thumb along Cas’s. “Thank you for trying to make it...special. It was.”

“Mhmm. After you made fun of me for it?”

“You gotta admit the candles were a little much, though.”

Castiel laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Perhaps. But I’ve never been put in this particular situation before, and so I wasn’t entirely sure the proper etiquette. I appreciate you informing me that it was ‘too much’. Won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Dean tried not to read too much into that comment, smiling down at their hands. “It was...really nice of you. My actual first time wasn’t, you know... _ special _ , at all. At least my first time with you was.”

Castiel met his eyes and gave him a small smile, intense gaze softening. He sighed as he laid a hand on the side of Dean’s head, stroking his hair. “Beautiful boy. I’d do anything for you, you know that? Anything to make you happy.”

Dean blushed and his heart skipped a little, and Castiel’s eyes were just too close and too blue and too much. He had dreamed of the day the man he crushed on would actually look at him like this while he held his naked body in their bed. Now that he had it Dean wasn’t sure he could handle it. For someone who was so private and mysterious, Castiel wasn’t afraid to express himself fully. He spoke in a way most people wouldn’t, the kind of thing Dean had only seen in romance novels and cheesy movies. He looked at Dean like he was the only thing in the world that held any real meaning, like he  _ mattered _ , and when Dean was here Castiel’s attention was on  _ him _ . Even when he had to work, he hand a hand in Dean’s hair, down his back, touching him in some way. It was all so genuine in a world that was otherwise mostly fake, and Dean was overwhelmed by it. 

“Just...being here makes me happy,” Dean finally murmured, closing his eyes and relaxing completely when Castiel stroked the back of his neck. “That’s all I need.”

Castiel may have responded, but Dean was already drifting and didn’t hear a thing.

\----

“I did end up speaking with your father a couple of days ago, at work. He asked about the trip.”

“Oh?” Dean popped open one eye and looked over at Castiel, who had his head laid back calmly in his seat, eyes closed, while their plane taxied down the runway.   
“Mhmm.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, gripping his armrests tightly and thankful he didn’t have anyone on his other side. “You’re just tryin’ to distract me, aren’t you?”

Castiel smiled, never opening his eyes, but laid a hand over Dean’s and squeezed. “Perhaps. Is it working?”

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, carefully keeping himself from smiling even though Castiel couldn’t see it. Castiel threaded their fingers together and stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. 

“Well? What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything to you?”

Dean shrugged. “Not really. He asked why I was goin’, how long I’d be gone. If I could pick up a few groceries in preparation before I left. That was about it.”

“I explained that you were up for an internship, and that it was potentially something you could even do remotely through me, but the executives wanted to meet you, interview you. He said it was unnecessary for me to be taking you, that you could travel yourself, but I assured him that I was making the trip anyway, and the two just happened to coincide, so it wasn’t a problem. He asked what the internship was for, and I just told him it was for information technology. He didn’t ask anymore questions about it and I figured that would give you room to tell him whatever you wanted about it, since you seemingly haven’t decided what exactly you want to go into...or if you’ll be attending school in the fall. It gives you options.” Castiel cleared his throat. “He said New York was intense and to make sure to keep you under my thumb.” He opened his eyes and looked over at him, trying his best not to quirk a smile. “I told him I’d do my best.” He shrugged and hummed, closing his eyes and laying his head back again. “I’m not sure he believed me.”

“Ironic,” Dean snorted, glancing out the tiny window and then promptly shutting the shade. Maybe if he didn’t see it, he could pretend it wasn’t real. “Considering that’s one of the main aspects of our relationship.”

Castiel hummed thoughtfully. “Mm, I suppose. But I don’t particularly see it that way.”

Dean blinked and turned to him. “No?”

Castiel shook his head. “Being a Dom- at least for me- isn’t about keeping you ‘under my thumb’. Yes, during certain scenes, your obedience to me is a part of it. That’s not really the point of it, though. The meaning of it.”

“Right…” Dean said slowly, tensing slightly when the plane came to a stop. That meant they were waiting their turn to take off. “You’re, uh, taking care of me.”

“We’re really taking care of each other,” Castiel shrugged. “It’s an exchange of power. I don't control you. I give you what you need to trust me enough to relinquish your control. Ergo, the control is actually very much in your hands.”

“And that’s...taking care of you, too?”

“Yes,” Castiel nodded, taking Dean’s hand in his. “Doing this for you gives me what  _ I _ need.”

“Which is?”

“Ah, that’s hard to put into words,” Castiel huffed quietly. “The feeling you get when I take care of you, love you...call you my sweet boy? I get the same feeling when I do those things for you. I get to care for you in a way that was never afforded to me outside of these relationships. I thrive on that feeling.”

“Feeling...needed?”

“Needed...wanted...free to make decisions for both myself and another being. Having you place all your faith in me, your trust, knowing that you believe with all your heart I will do everything within my power to keep you safe, make you feel good, in all areas...that’s a powerful feeling.” He brought Dean’s hand up to his lips and held it there. 

Dean didn’t really know what to say, and any train of thought he had was promptly derailed when they began moving again. Castiel laid Dean’s hand in his lap and drew him close to his side with an arm around his shoulders, resting his chin on the top of his head when Dean pressed his face against his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Less than three hours,” Castiel assured him. “Just try to think about your reward.”

“Reward?” Dean asked, voice muffled against his jacket.

“Mmm. Something to look forward to. I’m told it helps?”

“Well, not if you’re up front about it essentially being a bribe,” Dean mumbled. “But you have my attention.”

Castiel chuckled and squeezed the arm around him tighter, taking the hand in his lap with the other. 

The flight did pass decently quickly, and Dean was able to even doze for part of it, in the safety of Castiel’s arms. The landing was mostly smooth and Castiel sat and waited patiently while most of the people on the plane exited, then he stood and retrieved their things from the overhead bin. 

New York  _ was  _ big, and loud, even from the airport. And it was busy, no one bothering to stop for anyone else, not a friendly word exchanged between strangers. Everyone seemed to be out for themselves. It made Dean especially appreciative for that man who was always out for him above all else.

They took a cab to their hotel, just a block from Times Square, which Dean stared longingly at as they passed. It looked incredible even in the light of day, and he could only assume how magnificent it looked lit up at nighttime. 

Dean dutifully made fun of their hotel- the ridiculously named Knickerbocker Hotel- that is, until he actually  _ saw _ the place. It was then that he couldn’t have given two shits what the name of it was, as it was massive and appeared to be made of stone and brick instead of the typical metal and glass skyscrapers he’d seen so many of on their taxi ride. Castiel checked them in and Dean was again floored when they actually stepped inside their room, which looked way too large to hold only a single King sized bed. The bathroom was near the door, a large mounted flat screen on the wall across from the bed, and there was a L-shaped sectional in the far corner of the room. Curtains lined the entire far wall. Dean dropped his bag on the bed and walked over to them, pulling them back to reveal a large wall of floor to ceiling windows- enough to make anyone’s head spin a little- which showcased their little area of the city in all its glory. 

He’d all but pressed his face up against the glass when Castiel came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck, his laptop bag still hanging off his shoulder. Dean laid his arms over Cas’s and Cas pressed his cheek against the side of Dean’s head to look out the window, voice low when he spoke.

“So. What do you think?”

“I think I want you to fuck me up against these windows.”

A pause. “That could certainly be arranged.”

Dean smiled and nodded, gazing out at their view and trying not to get dizzy. He’d never seen skyscrapers in real life. John hated cities and avoided them at all costs, which meant Dean never saw much out of their little town. 

“Dad said you came here for college,” Dean muttered, side eyeing him.

Castiel nodded. “More opportunity out here,” he shrugged. “Although, to be honest, I was mostly looking to get away from life back in Kansas. Anywhere but that town was better.”

Dean bit his lip and squeezed Castiel’s arm. “How come?”

Castiel was silent for a while and Dean resigned himself to not receiving an answer. 

“Let’s just say things were a little rougher for me back then,” Castiel finally murmured, kissing Dean’s cheek before pulling away. “I’m going to take a quick shower, then we can do a little sightseeing. I hate smelling like a plane.”

“I only smell you,” Dean said, plopping down on the bed and immediately groaning at the softness. “Holy shit it’s like a  _ cloud _ . We’re never leaving the bed. Forget sightseeing.”

“What about fucking up against the windows?” Castiel asked wryly. 

Dean frowned into the sheets. “I don’t know. I’m gonna have to really think about this.”

Castiel shook his head and grabbed a change of clothes from his suitcase. “Yes, well, you ponder that while I get cleaned up.”

“You mean you’re not going to invite me to shower with you?” Dean sputtered indigently. 

“You don’t need an invitation,” Castiel said easily, giving him a look as he opened the bathroom door. “You’re welcome to join me whenever you wish.”

He disappeared through the door, leaving Dean staring after him. He let his head fall back against the bed as he heard the water start, grasping at the soft sheets beside him. He pulled himself back up with a sigh and let his legs dangle off the side of the bed momentarily before hopping to his feet and crossing back over to the windows, looking out over what he could see of the city. There was another tall stone building just across the street that blocked a lot of his view, but on either side of it were smaller buildings made of mostly glass, with a few massive advertisements scattered throughout, from Broadway posters to product endorsements. People lined the streets, moving quickly, catching cabs or smoking cigarettes or filing in and out of buildings. Traffic inched slowly through the streets, horns blaring every couple of minutes and voices fading into background noise. 

After a few minutes Dean joined Castiel in the bathroom, quickly relieving himself of his clothes and stepping into the warm spray, the room already thick with steam. The shower had double shower heads- of course- and Castiel was rinsing soap out of his dark hair on one end when Dean pressed up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and up toward his shoulders. Castiel scrubbed a hand through his hair and wiped the water from his eyes before turning in Dean’s arms and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You know, this is quite the popular location for New Year’s, I’m told.”

“The shower?” Dean joked.

Castiel smiled. “The roof of his hotel. Perhaps one day I can bring you back for that. It’s supposed to be breathtaking...a perfect view of the Time’s Square festivities.”

Dean’s breath caught, but he just hummed and nodded so as not to convey how fast his heart was beating. Castiel wanted to bring him back for New Year’s, which was almost a whole year away. Which meant that, possibly, Castiel planned to keep him around for a while. It was a thought that warmed Dean and he pressed closer to the man, nuzzling his chest and practically purring when Castiel laid a possessive hand on the back of his neck. 

“Your responses to touch are fascinating,” Castiel murmured into his hair. “And also quite addicting. I love watching you, maybe even more than the actual touching.”

“Can’t help it,” Dean said, his voice muffled from Castiel’s wet chest. “You touch me and I just...I dunno. I can’t describe it. I melt. Float. Sink. Rest of the world fades and it’s just you.” 

Castiel pulled away and squirted some shampoo into his hands before pushing them through Dean’s hair and scrubbing his scalp with his fingertips. Dean slid his hands down to the man’s waist, rubbing his thumbs in circles over his hip bones. 

“Tomorrow will be a long day for us,” Castiel started, wiping some soap off Dean’s forehead with his arm. “They asked me to be there at 8 a.m., but I would like for us to get there around 7, if you don’t mind indulging me.”

“Y’know, sometimes it’s considered just as rude to arrive outrageously early as it is to arrive late,” Dean grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as Castiel moved him into the spray and rinsed his hair.

“Yes, well...I like being prompt,” Castiel said curtly. “And anyway, it’s my old company, and I want to see how things are running before they expect me to be there.”

“So you want to drop in unexpectedly to check in on them.”

“At the risk of sounding arrogant, I helped to build that company into what it is today. I just want to know that it’s being taken care of.”

“I see.”

“There’s an excellent little coffee shop on the way where we can pick up breakfast. The first part of my morning will probably consist of meetings, and you may do whatever you wish in that time. If you’d like to see the city, I can suggest a few places. I should be done by lunchtime, though, and after that I can actually give you a tour of the building.” Castiel added soap to a loofah and pulled Dean out of the spray, pushing him gently against the cool tile wall and soaping his chest. 

Dean sighed softly, not relishing in the thought of spending a few hours in the city without Castiel, but this  _ was _ an actual business trip and Castiel was an important man. Dean didn’t want to get in his way, despite how much he wanted to be with the man. Even if it meant fetching his coffee and holding his papers while he stood in the corner at meetings. Dean knew he’d only be in the way, though. He was computer savvy, but knew nothing about business. 

Dean twitched when a hand not so innocently grazed his nipple and he glared half-heartedly at Castiel, not missing the brief smirk on his face before it was replaced by a neutral expression.

“You quit that,” Dean mumbled, watching as Castiel spread the suds over his skin.

“Quit what?” Castiel blinked at him. Dean wasn’t buying it.

“Torturing me with my own nipples,” Dean huffed, a light blush on his cheeks. “It’s not fair. You don’t have any...you know,  _ spots _ for me to torture you with.”

“That’s not true,” Castiel began soaping up Dean’s stomach and thighs. “You just haven’t found them yet.”

“Well that’s still not fair,” Dean argued, spreading his legs a little to give Castiel more room. “You usually have me like...tied up for somethin’.”

“That sounds like a personal problem to me,” Castiel smirked and planted an open mouth kiss right beside Dean’s half-hard cock. “You’ll just have to figure that one out for yourself.”

“Maybe if I got to be with you more than once a week-”

“I’ll make it happen,” Castiel promised, dropping the loofah into the spray and pulling himself back up Dean’s body, watching his hands roam over his skin. “Be patient.”

“I’ve  _ been  _ patient,” Dean insisted, his voice bordering on whiny but he couldn’t find it in him to care. “You made me wait over a  _ month  _ before you’d fuck me, and you tease me all the time, always calling the shots- which yeah, I get it, that’s the deal here, but it’s  _ killing  _ me-”

“Tad dramatic,” Castiel huffed a laugh, “but again, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m the one calling the shots here.”

“You know what I mean.”

Castiel wordlessly moved Dean back into the spray as he soaped his own body, pointedly ignoring the boy’s stares. They finished the shower without conversation, and Castiel toweled Dean off before himself, as usual, then wrapped his towel around his waist and walked back into the room, Dean following closely behind. 

Castiel walked over to the far side of the bed near the windows and checked his phone, frowning down at it as he typed, the “keys” making a clacking noise. Dean crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, eyes falling to the pristine white comforter.

The phone clattered back onto the table and Castiel motioned him over. 

“C’mere.”

“Why?”

Castiel huffed and turned fully to him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because, my sweet little exhibitionist, I’m going to jerk you off in front of these windows.”

Dean glared at him but pushed off the wall and walked over anyway, grunting as Castiel pressed him roughly up against the glass, his hard cock pressing against his backside. Dean cut his eyes back at him, pushing back gently.

“Ass.”

Castiel chuckled and nipped at his earlobe, giving Dean’s cock a tug. “Can’t say I never did anything for you.”


	9. Chapter 9

The building that held Castiel’s previous job was impressive, especially compared to Hoppmann. It was a skyscraper and Dean felt a little nervous about how many floors they’d be up, but he refused to let his irrational fear of heights get the better of him. Coffee and egg sandwich in hand, he followed Castiel into the revolving doors and tried not to stare in awe at the sheer size of the place.

“You ran this place?” Dean murmured, sticking close to Castiel’s side as they crossed the marbled floors. Not too many people were there yet, since it was still an ungodly hour, but he felt odd- like a kid in a museum who was told not to touch anything.

“The company I came from only occupies a few floors,” Castiel chuckled, heading for an elevator. “And I didn’t exactly _run_ it like you’re probably thinking, but...yes. I certainly played a big part in it.”

“Shit,” Dam whistled, following Castiel into a large elevator and laying his head on Castiel’s shoulder as the doors slid shut. “I hope I’m half as successful as you at your age.”

“I have no doubt you will be just as successful, if not more so,” Castiel said seriously. “You just need the opportunity to show what you can do. Which I can give you.”

The elevator came to a smooth halt on the 14th floor and Dean straightened, clasping his hands nervously in front of him, anxiety building in his chest. He didn’t even know why he was nervous, anyway, considering Castiel was the one who brought him. All he had to do was act as if he belonged, which he felt he could do as long as he was by the man’s side.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing another massive marble lobby encased in glass and large wooden doors. Castiel shifted the carrier full of coffees to one hand and gently guided Dean out of the elevator with a hand barely brushing his back, letting it fall again once the doors closed behind them. They crossed the large lobby, over to a desk at which a small-framed receptionist sat, with short dark hair and caramel highlights throughout, tanned skin and dark brown eyes, hidden behind a small pair of black-framed glasses. She was chewing lightly on the tip of a pen as she peered at her computer, keyboard clacking as she typed.

“Welcome to Cyber Infrastructure, Incorporated, do you have an app-”

She froze when she looked up, eyes widening slightly as she pulled the pen from between her teeth and laid in on the desk. She sat back and cocked her head, pulling her glasses off her face and folding them between her hands. “Castiel?”

Castiel smiled, a beat passing before he pulled one of the coffees from the carrier and handed it over to her. “Dark roast with coconut milk and two sugars. I trust it’s still your order?”

She swallowed and nodded, smile finally pulling at the corners of her lips. She reached for the cup, her ring catching the light briefly. “They weren’t expecting you for another hour-”

“Yes.”

“-but I had them prepare early, in the event you showed up on _your_ time.”

Castiel clicked his tongue, quirking a smile. “I should’ve guessed.”

She huffed a laugh. “You’re predictable.”

Castiel chuckled and she smiled as she raised her cup to her lips. Dean shifted on his feet, looking around the room, and Castiel cleared his throat and rested his hand on Dean’s lower back again, ushering him forward slightly.

“Dean, this is Yulia. She’s been the receptionist here since long before I left. Yulia, this is Dean, my new...assistant.”

Yulia nodded at Castiel and looked over at Dean, finally giving him a smile and standing to shake his hand. He realized she was much more petite than even he originally thought, his hand practically enveloping hers completely.

“Nice to meet you, Dean,” she said sincerely, her smile warming. She looked back to Castiel, raising a brow. “He’s young.”

“And extremely intelligent,” Castiel said with a nod. “Far more so than I was at his age.”

“He shows promise.”

“Without a doubt.”

She hummed and nodded, smiling over at Dean again. “Well. Welcome to CIS, Dean. You can come to me if you need anything while Castiel is in his meetings.”

“Thank you,” Dean mumbled, looking nervously over at Castiel, who was still watching Yulia with a strange look on his face, his smile forced, eyes blank.

“You’re engaged.”

Yulia looked up at him, taking a deep breath and sighing heavily, then pressed her lips together and nodded. “Yes, a couple of months ago now. His name’s Myles. He’s...actually a partner with the company. Entrepreneur, helps run a non-profit-”

“How respectable.”

She pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side. “He’s a wonderful guy, Castiel. You’d like him.”

“I’m sure I would.”

Dean glanced back and forth between them, eyebrows furrowing when he sensed the oddly growing tension. They obviously knew each other, but Dean was starting to think their relationship was that of more than just co-workers.

“Castiel is pretty wonderful, too,” he blurted, not sure why he felt the need to defend Castiel- or even what he was defending him from. “He, uh, wants to put me through school. And set up an internship for me at his company.”

Yulia’s eyes widened slightly, looking a little taken aback, and nodded slowly. “Well, yes, he’s- that’s very nice of him-”

“Excuse us, Yulia,” Castiel interrupted, his voice cool and hard. “We’re needed elsewhere. Have a good day.”

Dean almost stumbled as Castiel practically pushed him through a set of glass doors and into a hallway. He swallowed, wondering if maybe Castiel hadn’t wanted to make that school business public knowledge. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, when Castiel placed a finger on his lips.

“Hush, it’s alright,” he said, his tone much softer now. “You absolutely did not have to do that, but...thank you. It’s not so often Yulia is surprised. It was...a little fun, seeing her dumbstruck for a moment.”

“You just...I don’t know, seemed upset,” Dean shrugged. “It just came out.”

“Well, no harm done,” Castiel huffed a small laugh. “She did, however, warn everyone of my early arrival. So I’m afraid my meeting may start sooner than we had planned.”

“You’re still mine for lunch, right?” Dean asked hopefully, nibbling on his egg sandwich.

“Of course, sweet boy,” Castiel nodded. “These meetings don’t go late. Usually. As long as things haven’t fallen apart completely without me.”

“So humble,” Dean said wryly.

Castiel licked his lips quickly and looked up toward the lobby, finding Yulia had returned to her computer and was paying them no attention, typing with one hand and sipping her coffee with the other. Castiel looked back down at him and held his face between his hands, sighing through his nose.

“I’ll be back for you as soon as I possibly can,” he promised, giving him a nod. “You can go out if you’d like-”

“No,” Dean said firmly. “I’ll stay here and wait.”

“Okay. Okay, that’s fine.” Castiel dropped his hands to his sides and nodded toward the lobby. “I’ll have Yulia show you to a waiting room of sorts. Somewhere more comfortable than the lobby.”

Dean allowed himself to be led back through the doors. Yulia smiled up at them and Castiel grabbed the carrier of coffees from her desk, shoving his other hand in his pocket.

“Yules, would you mind showing Dean to somewhere he can relax while I’m in my meetings?”

She smiled up at him over her glasses and nodded. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” Castiel looked to Dean. “You’ll be okay?”

Dean swallowed and nodded, straightening and rolling his shoulders back. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and gave him a small smile, looked to Yulia and nodded, and left out a large wooden door off the lobby. Dean watched him go, suddenly very aware that he was in the room alone with Yulia, who he knew nothing about other than his suspicion about the nature of her relationship with Castiel, which he was _definitely_ not going to bring up to her.

“So. Dean.” Yulia stood, straightening her jacket over her purple blouse as she stepped around her desk, her knee-length skirt hugging her thighs, black heels completing the look. She gestured forward and he followed by her side. “How long have you been Castiel’s assistant?”

“Uh...couple of months, I guess. But I’ve known him for a few years now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He’s my dad’s boss.”

“Hm.” Yulia’s heels clicked loudly on the marble, methodically. She held a door open for Dean and he followed her down the hallway, turning at the end, passing by a bunch of empty rooms. She stopped at the end of the hallway and opened one of the doors, flipping on the light and ushering Dean inside. There were a few couches, a refrigerator, a table and chairs, and a large flat screen. She pulled a soda out of the fridge and handed it to Dean, giving him a warm smile. “You must be pretty smart, if Castiel is offering to help you build your career. He doesn’t vouch for just anyone.”

Dean popped the tab on his soda and raised a brow. “He never...did this for anyone else?”

“Not that I know of.” She shook her head. “He’s not necessarily in the habit of keeping people close to begin with, but favors? No. If he’s sticking his neck out, he must have a lot of faith in you.”

“Good,” Dean mumbled, taking a sip of his drink. “So no pressure, then.”

“Sorry,” she chuckled, looking genuinely apologetic. “I just figured I’d give it to you straight. Castiel is a bit of a perfectionist, even a little old-fashioned sometimes. He wants things done a certain way and only trusts those who he deems fully capable to do the work. He expects a lot, but he also rewards those who meet those expectations.”

“You sound like you know from personal experience,” Dean looked at her curiously and she shrugged.

“Well, he worked here for a long time,” she said with a small smile. “He was always the first one here, last one to leave...as the receptionist, I kind of know all and see all.”

“If he worked here for so long, why did he leave?” Dean asked, taking a seat on one of the couches.

Yulia sighed and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Dean thought he saw a look of guilt pass over her features before she quickly wiped it clean.

“Well, he did all he could do here,” she shrugged. “And Castiel likes to keep busy. Doesn’t stay in one place for very long. Once he’s satisfied with something, he moves onto something else. A new project.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably and rested the soda on his knee, turning it in his hand. “Oh. So once he...does what he can for a business, he leaves.”

“Well, yes. It’s what he does.” Yulia shrugged, tapping her fingers against her arm. “He’s passionate, as I’m sure you know. But his interest lies in the journey...the work it takes to get something from point A to point B. Once that’s achieved, he doesn’t see a need for himself anymore. I think it’s self-fulfilling, more than anything. If he doesn’t feel like his efforts will show improvement, he doesn’t waste his time. So, I suspect once that company down in Kansas is back where it needs to be, yes, he’ll move on.”

“So if he’s here today,” Dean said slowly, “your company must be having some trouble.”

She raised a brow, small smile pulling at her lips. “You’re receptive.” She huffed a laugh, shaking her head and looking down at her feet. “That makes sense.”

“So, uh,” Dean cleared his throat. “How long have you worked here?”

“Going on 11 years.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Wow. Wow, you must’ve been-”

“Eighteen.”

“Right.” Dean pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth, looking down at his soda. “And Cas, he-”

“He hired me, yes. The company helped me with my tuition back when I first started part time, so I did graduate with a degree in tourism and hospitality management. But I just...I dunno.” She shrugged. “I love it here. I learn new things every day. The salary is good. I haven’t found a reason to leave yet. Castiel helped make this company what it is today, and I stayed because of it. So if he says he’s going to help you, you should take advantage of every opportunity he gives you.”

“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat and looked out the window and down at the big city. “Guess I should. Before he...leaves.”

“Well, I imagine you still have a little while,” Yulia said, pushing off the wall and running her fingers through her dark hair. “Castiel doesn’t leave until every detail is accounted for. He’s only been in Kansas a couple of years. I hardly think he’s done with Hoppman just yet. From what I heard, it was in a bad state.”

Dean bit his lip, shrugging mutely. The truth was he hadn’t known the extent of his dad’s company and its problems until very recently. John had kept his boys in the dark, never letting on just how close Hoppmann came to closing up. Castiel’s involvement had meant his dad got to keep his job, along with everyone else who wasn’t almost immediately fired for reason or another. Yulia was right; Castiel expected a lot out of his people, and if they didn’t meet those expectations, they were replaced with people who would.

Dean huffed a quiet laugh. Now that he thought of it, Cas was kind of a hard ass.

“Anyway,” Yulia gestured to the tv. “Feel free to get comfortable. We have cable, food in the fridge, and the bathroom is down the hall on your right.”

“Thanks,” Dean sighed.

“No problem,” she smiled and left, her heels clicking until they faded away. Dean picked up the remote and settled on a random channel, trying to keep his mind off the fact that Castiel might only see him as something to fix before he moves onto something else.

\----

He watched tv for awhile and eventually dozed off, jerking awake around a quarter past twelve. The room was still empty except for him but he could see people bustling about outside, could hear doors opening and closing, the muted murmurs of people talking. He’d expected Castiel to be done with his meetings by now, but he didn’t have any notifications on his phone and he didn’t want to text or call him in case he was still occupied. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, sniffing loudly as he forced himself back into full consciousness.

He stood and shoved his phone in his pocket before leaving the room, ignoring the questioning stares from a few people who walked by him as he headed back towards the main lobby, intending to ask Yulia if she had a clue when the meetings would end. He paused just outside the door, though, when he saw Castiel standing at her desk with his hands in his pockets, smiling and nodding along to whatever she was saying. It looked like friendly conversation, sure, but Dean couldn’t help the tiniest bit of jealousy at seeing them together, especially since he’d been left to his own devices for the past several hours. He had no idea how long it had been since Castiel finished his meetings, and he had left him there while he stood and talked to this- frankly gorgeous and poised woman- instead of retrieving him.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Yulia said something, smiling brightly and gesturing with her hands, and Castiel leaned back slightly as he laughed, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching...a laugh Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest, his legs weak, but he took a deep breath and pushed open the door, stepping out into the lobby.

Castiel’s expression softened as he looked over at Dean, smile fading, that intense look he always had around him returning.

“Dean,” he said, in that gravely tone that always made Dean a little weak in the knees. “I was just about to come get you. I hope you’re hungry. Yules made us a reservation at one of my favorite spots just a few blocks away.”

“Oh, okay. Great,” Dean licked his lips, casting Yulia a glance. She was nice enough and he was trying not to let his silly jealousy make him hate her unnecessarily. Even though she can make Castiel laugh and he looked more at ease with her than he ever did with Dean.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes at Dean and frowning slightly.

“Yeah. Fine,” Dean cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his jeans. “Just hungry, I guess.”

Castiel eyed him silently for a moment then looked over at Yulia, giving her a warm smile that made Dean’s chest clench. “I guess we’ll be going then,” he told her. “I apologize for taking up so much of your time.”

“No harm done, Cas,” she waved him off. “We had a lot to catch up on. It was...good to see you.”

“You as well.” He smiled at her again then placed his hand briefly on the small of Dean’s back to lead him towards the elevator. Once the doors closed, Castiel pulled Dean close and kissed his forehead.

“I hope you weren’t too bored,” Castiel murmured, smiling apologetically. “That went a little longer than expected.”

_What? The meeting or your chat with your ex?_

Dean swallowed and shrugged, playing with the end of Castiel’s tie. “‘S fine. Watched some tv, took a nap. How, uh, how did it go?”

Castiel sighed and shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing I can’t fix. The main problem is some of the people they hired on after I left. It’s my opinion they are unqualified, but it’s not in my power to dismiss them. Not anymore, anyway. All I can do is make...suggestions.”

“Mmm.” Dean looked down at his hands and picked at a nail.

“But the extra training alone...it’s going to take more than just a few days. A few more short trips though, long weekends, perhaps that would do the trick-”

“What?” Dean frowned up at him, pulling away slightly. “You mean you’re...you’re gonna have to come back again?”

Castiel nodded slightly. “Well, yes, I-”

“Without me.”

Castiel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Well I can’t be pulling you out of school every couple of weeks.”

“So wait until I graduate. It’s only a couple of months away.”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, pressing his lips together and tilting his head. He furrowed his brow and squared his shoulders toward Dean, laying a hand on his neck. “What’s wrong?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Talk to me.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I-”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, and Castiel pulled away nonchalantly as a grey-haired man with a suit and briefcase entered, giving them both a smile and a nod. The rest of the elevator ride was silent, Castiel only barely brushing a finger discreetly against Dean’s hand before he clasped them together in front of him. Dean pushed past him when the doors opened on the main floor, striding quickly across the floor, feeling Castiel close behind him.

“Hey.” Castiel’s hand on his arm stopped him short once he’d made it outside, the slight chill of the air cooling his overheated skin. Dean looked up at him, the look of confusion and concern on Castiel’s face only serving to make him angrier.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Dean insisted, jerking his arm out of Castiel’s grasp and picking a direction, resuming a quick pace. He heard Castiel sigh from behind him and then the man’s hands were on him again, firm but gentle, turning him around and draping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as they started walking.

“You’re not,” Castiel said softly, pressing his cheek to the top of Dean’s head. “And not talking to me is a problem. You understand.”

“You have to ask?”

“Yes.”

Dean huffed. “Really?”

“I could guess.”

Dean didn’t respond, crossing his arms over his chest as they walked. Castiel clicked his tongue, brushing fingertips along Dean’s neck. He allowed himself to cool down while they walked, trying desperately to remind himself that everything was fine, that Castiel had brought him there, that he wanted to be with _him_.

They arrived at a streetlight and stopped, waiting with the crowd for the crosswalk. Dean continued to sulk, forcing himself not to lean into Castiel’s touch.

“Dean…”

“Where’s this restaurant, anyway?” Dean huffed, craning his neck to look over the crowd.

“Well, actually you went the wrong way. It’s back the way we came.”

“ _What_?” Dean whipped his head around. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t really give me the chance,” Castiel said, raising a brow.

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and turned, charging down the sidewalk. Castiel followed closely until he grabbed Dean’s wrist gently, forcing him to stop.

“That’s enough, Dean,” Castiel said firmly, pulling Dean to the side before they were run over by anyone. New Yorkers, apparently, don’t stop for anyone. “It’s time to tell me what’s wrong. You’re behaving like a child.”

Dean bristled at that, wrenching his hand away and taking a step back. “Well if I’m too damn _childish_ , then you can go back to your little receptionist. We both know you have a thing for them anyway.”

Castiel’s eyes hardened and he pressed his lips into a thin line, hands twitching at his sides. “Dean, this is ridiculous. What exactly happened while I was in my meeting? You were fine this morning.”

Dean opened his mouth then snapped it shut, the fight suddenly draining from him. Logically, he knew he was being immature and that his jealousy was completely unfounded. He had no proof that Castiel and Yulia dated, or had any sort of relationship outside the office. And even if they did, she was engaged and Castiel was with him. This whole tantrum was unlike him, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself. Just picturing that smile Castiel gave her made his chest ache.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed tiredly, rubbing at his eyes and looking away when he started to feel them burn. “Just...we can just go eat and go back to the hotel? Please?”

Castiel stared at him for a long moment before nodding mutely, taking Dean’s hand in his almost hesitantly and pulling him along the sidewalk. Dean went easily, staring at Castiel’s back and hardly noticing their surroundings.

The restaurant was more of a bistro. Small and intimate, and it smelled wonderful when they stepped inside. The lighting was dim, provided mostly by candles and low light chandeliers. The walls were covered in beautiful art, the floors made of stone, and the tables covered in red tablecloth. It looked like the type of place that would cost Dean a whole month’s worth of paychecks to pay for a single plate. For Castiel, it was probably pocket change.

They ordered and the waiter brought them a basket of bread and a bottle of wine, which Castiel poured for both of them. Dean raised a brow, looking pointedly between him and his glass, but Castiel just shrugged. Dean cast a quick look around the room before raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip. It wasn’t as terrible as other wines he’d had, but then, he’d only ever had dirt cheap wine to compare it to.

Castiel buttered one of the pieces of bread and sat it on a plate in front of Dean, giving him a nod. Dean picked it up hesitantly and took a small bite, chewing slowly as Castiel clasped his hands in front of him on the table, watching him intently. Dean shifted uncomfortably under his stare, avoiding his gaze.

“Dean,” Castiel said finally, waiting until the boy looked up at him. “Did Yulia act unfavorably toward you?”

Dean scoffed, looking back down at his plate. “Who even talks like that, Cas?”

“Answer the question.”

Dean huffed, finally looking up at him. “No.”

“Have _I_ done something to garner this reaction from you?”

“No.”

Castiel sighed, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I can’t fix it unless you tell me what’s wrong. I want to help, Dean, I...I’m afraid I just don’t know how. Not unless you talk to me.”

“Really?” Dean set his jaw. “Here? Now? You want to talk about this now.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Dean sat down the rest of his bread and wiped his hands on his napkin, laying his clenched fists on top of the table and lowering his voice. “Yulia. Who is she, exactly?”

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Castiel sighed again and sat back in his chair, tonguing the inside of his cheek. “I get the feeling you know the answer.”

Dean’s heart clenched, but he steeled himself, picking a spot on Castiel’s jacket and staring as he spoke. “I want to hear you say it.”

Castiel was silent for what felt like a really long time, long enough that Dean mustered up the courage to look him in the eye. Cas cleared his throat and licked his lips quickly, then took a sip of his wine, fingering the stem of the glass when he sat it back down. “Yulia was my Sub for about six years.”

Dean swallowed hard and looked down, eyes pricking with tears he wouldn’t allow himself to shed. This was stupid. _So_ stupid. He knew Castiel had past Subs...it wasn’t a secret. In fact, Castiel had been quite open with him about it, and had even offered up information if Dean was interested in hearing it.

“How long ago?” he heard himself ask.

Another long pause. “A little over three years.”

Dean closed his eyes and took a breath. “So. Right before you came to Kansas.”

“Yes.”

“Before you met me.”

“Yes.”

“I’m just her replacement, then.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, lips set in a hard frown. “You know that’s not true, Dean. I don’t _replace_ my Subs. It’s just like any other relationship. One ends and, eventually, another begins.” He tilted his head, tapping a finger on his knuckles. “You know I had past Subs. I don’t understand why you’re suddenly so upset about it.”

“I didn’t expect to _meet_ one,” Dean huffed, picking at his napkin. “Or see you with one, laughing and stuff.”

Castiel raised a brow. “Laughing?”

“You seemed to be getting along with her very well,” Dean said bitterly, knowing how childish he sounded and not really caring. “Cas, I sat there and waited for you. For hours. Twelve o’clock came and went, I had no message, no idea if you were done. I come out and see you there with her. You weren’t even thinking about me. Too wrapped up in her.”

“Dean, this...jealousy you’re feeling is really unnecessary. It’s-”

“Yeah, I get it. _Childish_ ,” Dean spat. “Guess what? I’m 18. You can’t sit there and tell me what not to feel, or tell me my feelings aren’t real. I can’t _help_ what I feel.”

“I’m not-” Castiel cut himself off and nodded to a passing waiter, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to tell you that your feelings aren’t valid, Dean. You’re entitled to feel however you please. All I’m saying is that they’re _unnecessary_. My job is to take care of you, and you’re causing yourself unnecessary stress-”

“Don’t _Dom_ me right now-”

“I’m _not-”_

“And don’t try to play it off as no big deal,” Dean hissed. “It is to _me_ . I’ve never done this before. I’ve never been put in a situation anything like this one before. I...I didn’t _know_ it was gonna bother me like this, but...I don’t feel it’s unnecessary. You looked... _happy_ with her. I guess I just don’t feel like I make you that happy.”

“Dean.”

Castiel’s voice was soft, his eyes gentle, head tilted to the side. He reached out and pried Dean’s fist open, squeezing his hand.

“Of course you make me happy. You make me incredibly happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.” He sighed, looking down at the table. “Yulia is an old friend. I haven’t seen her in years. I hadn’t even known she was still working here before we arrived, or I would’ve told you beforehand. I had no reason to believe she'd left, but I wasn't sure. But that’s my fault. I should’ve told you about her, should’ve warned you to the possibility of her being here. But Dean...I haven’t spoken to her since I left New York. And you’re right...I should’ve come to get you as soon as I left my meetings. I shouldn’t have left you wondering about me. But I was only there for a few moments before you walked in, just catching up. That’s all it was.”

Dean was quiet for awhile, looking down at their hands, watching Castiel’s thumb stroke the back of his.

“Six years is a long time,” he mumbled, eyes flitting up. “Why did she decide she wanted out?”

A little flash of something flickered in Castiel’s eyes, gone so fast Dean could’ve imagined it. He gave him a small smile, rolling his shoulders back and raising his wine glass to his lips. “She didn’t need me anymore.”

Dean frowned at him. “She didn’t-” he shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. “Do you...expect me to do that to you? Just...leave when I don’t ‘need’ you anymore?”

Castiel slid a finger up and down the stem of his glass, looking down at the table. “That’s the deal. You’ll move on one day, Dean. You won’t always need...this. Need me. So yes. I expect that one day...you’ll want out as well.”

Dean sucked in a breath and looked away, swallowing thickly. He tried to picture himself walking away from all of this, from Castiel, and decided he just couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine ever giving this up, living his days without seeing Castiel or hearing from him. The man had become so important to him, more than just a childhood obsession or crush.

“You’re wrong,” Dean said, turning back to him, jaw set. “That won’t ever happen.”

Castiel smiled sadly and shook his head. “Dean, I realize that right now it might be hard to picture it, but you’ll find something else...someone else. You’ll grow out of this or fall in love, move away, want children-”

“ _No_ ,” Dean said, practically growling. “I know you’re super smart, but you’re wrong about this. I wouldn’t leave you like she did. I’m not her or any of your past Subs. You’re not an object, Cas...you’re not something to just put away when I’m done. Maybe…” he swallowed and looked down. “Maybe you’ll get tired of me, but it will never be the other way around.”

“I was never meant to be a long term option, Dean. For anyone. People come to me when they need to be fixed...when something in them isn’t what they want it to be, or what they need it to be. I’ve resigned myself to that. I’m _okay_ with that. She left, as I expected her to, just like all the others, as I expected them to.”

“That’s not a _life,_ Cas-”

“Exactly. Which is why you’ll leave, too. You’ll want things I can no longer give you. Marriage, a family...all the things that come with that. But please don’t mistake my resignation for regret.” Castiel laid his hand over Dean’s, dipping his head to catch his gaze. “I’m okay, sweet boy. I have all I need by giving you what you need.” He sighed. “Yulia leaving wasn’t a bad thing. It was a _good_ thing. It meant I did my job properly.”

Dean was about to say something when the waiter showed up with their food, placing their plates of pasta in front of them and filling their waters. He left without another word, leaving the two of them staring at each other.

“It sounds like a sad existence, Cas,” Dean said softly.

“It’s not. Now eat your food.” Castiel picked up his fork and pointed to Dean, raising a brow.

Dean sighed and spent the rest of the time picking at his spaghetti and meatballs. Usually he’d be devouring it, but he didn’t feel very hungry. He ate enough to appease Castiel, who watched him closely. He turned down dessert and Castiel paid the tab. They walked back to their hotel in silence and Dean collapsed onto the bed once they reached their room, toeing off his shoes. They’d been planning to explore the city after lunch, but the mood was somber now and Dean didn’t feel like dealing with the crowded streets of New York.

Castiel slid in beside him and laid Dean’s head in his lap, stroking his hair softly. “I don’t like you so upset, sweetheart,” he murmures. “I meant for this trip to be fun for you. Get you away for a few days.”

“You’re working,” Dean mumbled, unable to keep himself from closing his eyes. Castiel’s hands were magic.

“Well, yes, a little,” Castiel nodded. “But if I had only planned to work I wouldn’t have brought you, baby. I brought you so we could spend some time together, I can show you how the business runs, get your foot in the door. Let you see New York.”

Dean sighed and didn’t say anything, laying a hand on Castiel’s leg and tracing his thigh. Castiel continued to stroke his hair for a few moments then bent forward, kissing Dean on the cheek.

“Come on, sweet boy,” he whispered. “Cheer up for me? We can do whatever you want. The rest of the day is ours, I promise. No more work.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pulled himself up, refusing to meet Castiel’s gaze. He could tell by the man’s body language that he was expecting him to walk away, his shoulders slumping, fingers twitching. Instead, he threw a leg over his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing their foreheads together. He molded his body to Castiel’s, shifting in his lap, pressing himself against his crotch, sucking in a soft breath as he slowly rubbed himself against his front.

“I haven’t planned a scene, Dean, I-”

“No,” Dean said softly, closing his eyes, their lips so close together Dean could feel the hot air. “Don’t need one. Just need you to fuck me hard...up against those windows.”

“Dean-”

“You said whatever I want,” Dean said defiantly, shuddering slightly. “That’s what I want.”

Castiel only waited another beat before gripping Dean’s thighs and sliding them off the bed, carrying him easily over to the windows and sitting him on his feet. He pulled Dean’s shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, ghosting his fingertips over his chest before grabbing his hips and roughly turning him to face the city below. He pressed up behind him, his arms wrapping around to unbuckle his pants and shove them down his thighs, maneuvering Dean out of them and kicking them to the side as well.

Dean shuddered, clutching at the cool glass, his cock bobbing between his legs. He pressed his cheek to the window and spread his stance, his breathing picking up when he heard the clank of Castiel’s belt. Knowing Castiel, he wouldn’t even bother to undress and would fuck Dean right into the glass completely clothed. He was proven right when Castiel pressed up against him and he felt the zipper drag against his ass, Castiel’s shirt caressing the skin of his back.

Castiel reached around and placed two fingers by Dean’s mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded. “Get ‘em nice and wet.”

Dean opened up eagerly and groaned when Castiel’s slid his fingers inside, his tongue licking over each digit thoroughly.

“Good boy,” Castiel praised, gently removing them and pressing them against Dean’s twitching rim. He circled it briefly then plunged the first one inside all the way to the knuckle. Dean whined and pressed back, clamping down on Castiel’s finger as he huffed against the window, breath fogging the glass.

“Please, daddy,” Dean begged. “Can’t we just-”

“No,” Castiel said firmly, taking his time as he thrust his finger in and out. “You know we don’t rush this, boy. Behave.”

Dean growled and rubbed his cheek against the glass, his thighs quivering as Castiel teased his prostate. He moved his hips back again, seeking more, and yelped when Castiel slapped his left cheek.

“Do you need a spanking, boy?” Castiel growled into his ear, massaging the cheek with his other hand.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean breathed, smirking into the window. “Please, daddy…”

Castiel chuckled and slapped, fingers gripping Dean’s ass. Dean groaned and desperately wanted to reach down and grip himself, his cock already flushed red and leaking. Castiel added a second finger and slapped him again, the skin of his ass cheek reddening.

Dean whined when Castiel pulled away, withdrawing his fingers.

“No, I wanna feel-”

“No,” Castiel said again, and Dean pressed his cheek against the cool glass while he waited for the man to return. He was back only seconds later, kissing Dean’s shoulder as he popped open the cap on the bottle of lube. “Not risking hurting you.”

Before Dean could open his mouth to argue, Castiel was pressing his fingers back inside, slicked with lube. Dean moaned and arched against the glass, seeking more. Castiel slapped him again, hard, gripping his ass and pulling slightly, humming as Dean clenched around his fingers.

“Safe words still apply,” Castiel said evenly, hooking his chin over Dean’s shoulder. “But you asked for hard, sweet boy, and I intend to make you question whether or not asking for that was a good idea.”

Dean groaned as he added another finger, sliding them swiftly in and out, nipping at his shoulder. “Please, more, daddy-”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Castiel brought his hand down against his backside again, twisting his fingers inside, brushing tantalizingly against his prostate. Dean panted, laying a hand on the glass beside his cheek, pushing back against Castiel’s hand.

“Be patient, boy,” Castiel said darkly in his ear, but Dean could hear the sound of his zipper before he realized the man’s hand was no longer on his ass, leaving a warm sensation behind. The subsequent sound of Castiel slicking his cock had Dean’s own cock twitching, aching, and Dean’s heart thudded almost painfully in his chest.

Castiel lined himself up and pushed inside without preamble, immediately sinking deep with a gutteral groan. He gripped Dean’s hips tightly, pressing himself snugly against Dean’s backside.

“ _Fuck_ , boy,” Castiel growled, pulling out slightly, only to push roughly back inside. “Been thinking about this all day. Just imagining your perfect, tight little hole had me on edge all throughout my meetings. Could only think about splitting you open right there on the conference room table, hearing your pretty little sounds…” he groaned again, circling his hips, flattening a palm against Dean’s stomach. “I’ve wanted you, _needed_ you...all day today.”

Dean closed his eyes and groaned, loud and long, at the thought of Castiel throwing him on a table in front of everyone and fucking him right then and there. Claiming him, making sure everyone knew who he belonged to.

“You like that, sweet boy?” Castiel whispered into his ear, his nails biting into Dean’s stomach as he slid out of Dean, pushing back in hard, skin slapping. “Want me to hold you down, fuck you in front of them?”

“Y-yes,” Dean groaned, scratching his nails across the glass.

“That why you wanted to fuck you against these windows?” Castiel nipped at his ear, his hips pumping faster, harder. “So someone could see you?”

“Yes,” Dean sobbed, hissing slightly at the burn of Castiel stretching him wide, brutally thrusting in and out. “W-want them to know I’m yours.”

“You are, my pretty boy,” Castiel panted, his thrusts becoming a little more erratic. Each thrust pushed Dean forward, his cock smearing pre-cum across the glass in a beautiful mess. “You’re all mine. You and this sweet, tight little hole of yours.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean’s legs shook, and if it weren’t for Castiel’s arms holding him up, he’d collapse to the floor. “Yes, daddy, _yes_! Love the way you fuck me, love that thick cock inside me…”

“C’mere,” Castiel commanded, pulling out and turning Dean around, pushing him up against the glass and lifting him easily. He guided his cock back inside, gripping Dean’s thighs as he fucked roughly into him. Dean’s head fell back against the window with a thud, his mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut, sweaty skin squeaking against the glass. He lolled his head to the side and opened an eye, the sight below them outside dizzying and disorienting. He groaned and closed it again, grip on Castiel’s arms tightening.

“Look at me, boy,” Castiel said breathlessly, giving his ass a sharp smack. “Look at me.”

Dean managed to pry his eyes open, and the sight of Castiel in front of him, looking at him adoringly, face flushed, forehead sweaty, hair sticking up wildly all over his head...Dean’s orgasm didn’t creep up as much as it hit him with unimaginable force. He cried out loudly, moving his arms back up around Castiel’s neck, tears blurring his eyes before he closed them again.

It wasn’t until he felt Castiel’s hips still, heard his stuttered breath, felt an incredible warmth filling him that he realized Castiel had broken one of his own rules...and he vaguely wondered if it was intentional or if he’d regret it later. Castiel sighed and pressed their foreheads together, holding Dean tightly around his waist, hot breath mingling between them.

Dean clung to him, his thighs wrapped around his waist and his arms still looped around his neck. Dean shifted and nuzzled Castiel’s cheek, mouthing along his jawline, wishing he could really kiss the man. With their lips so close it was tempting, but things were weird enough with them right now as it was.

Castiel grunted and pulled out gently, Dean only wincing slightly, and carried him over to the bed. Dean stretched out and closed his eyes, barely even twitching when Castiel moved his legs apart to clean up the mess he’d left. Dean’s hole was sensitive, and every gentle swipe of the washcloth was a small torture.

Finally, Castiel stretched out beside him and pulled him into his arms, stroking his hair and nuzzling his sweaty neck. “That what you wanted?” he asked, breath hot on Dean’s skin.

Dean hummed and nodded, closing his eyes. “Yeah. Exactly what I wanted.”

“Do you want a bath?”

“Not just yet,” Dean sighed, snuggling deeper into Castiel’s arms. “Just wanna stay here a minute.”

“Whatever you want, sweet boy,” Castiel kissed his cheek, brushing his thumb through Dean’s hair just above his ear. “How do you feel?”

“Mmm.”

“Are you okay?”

Dean nodded, barely holding his eyes open in his post-orgasm haze.

“You’re sure?”

“Jesus, Cas, yes, I’m sure.” He rolled his eyes, flopping onto his back. He looked back up at him apologetically and reached up, patting Castiel’s cheek. “I’m fine. I’m great. You don’t have to keep asking.”

Castiel sighed, laying his hand flat against Dean’s chest and sliding it down slowly, expression thoughtful, like he was exploring new territory. He stopped when he reached his thigh, pressing his fingers into the soft skin there.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “About...not being careful.”

“Don’t be,” Dean huffed, closing his eyes and smiling.

Castiel was quiet for a long time, and Dean finally looked over at him, frowning at the unreadable look on his face. Castiel smiled at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and he tried desperately not to let it remind him of the Yulia laugh earlier.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Castiel said easily, taking Dean’s hand and pressing his fingers to his lips. “I’m just...amazed by you.”

Dean snorted. “Why? Because I don’t mind that you came inside?”

Castiel exhaled through his nose and shook his head. He slid his fingers down Dean’s arm and rested his hand on Dean’s collar bone, tracing the bone. “No, although that was very nice,” he smiled briefly. “You just...feel so very strongly for others. For _me_. A relationship like ours...well, most Subs wouldn’t be so concerned with the past. Wouldn’t care so much about what happens outside of the den. The fact that you would get upset over something that happened before you even knew me…” Castiel shrugged and ran his fingers down Dean’s chest. “I’m sure you don’t realize how very rare that is. Especially considering how little care you’ve received compared to how much you really deserve.”

“So…” Dean shifted to lay on his side, facing Castiel. “It’s amazing that I actually care about you?”

“In a way, yes,” Castiel watched Dean trace patterns on his chest. “These relationships are emotional, but not in a romantic sense. For most Doms and Subs, unless they were already in a romantic relationship, their relationship only exists inside the den and scenes. Outside of that, they carry on with their lives. At the risk of sounding cold, it’s very much like a business transaction. Hence, the contract. The Sub gets what he or she needs, the Dom gets the same, and that’s it.”

Dean was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful, before he finally shook his head with a frown. “I’m sorry. I just...don’t see it that way. Maybe others can do that, but I can’t be as vulnerable as I am with you during scenes and not feel something. You’ve seen parts of me no one else has and I’ve seen sides to you I’m sure only a few have seen. That’s not a business transaction. That’s two _people_ in an intense, emotional relationship. Might not be your typical ‘go to dinner and a movie’ kind of relationship, but it’s still... _something_.”

Castiel smiled and cupped his cheek. “I’m glad you see it that way. That’s good. I’m glad that your lack of proper care and emotions in your relationships hasn’t made you cold. It would make my job a lot more difficult.”

Dean pointedly ignored the fact that Castiel still seemed to look at him as a _job_...especially since he knew it wasn’t exactly what the guy meant, anyway. “Were all your other Subs cold?”

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed, bumping his forehead against Dean’s. “Can we not talk about my other Subs? This isn’t about them. It’s about you.”

“Yeah, but-”

“They aren’t my concern anymore, Dean. You are. My time with them was over the second those contracts were broken. As long as our contract is intact, you are mine, and I am yours, and my main concern is your wellbeing and care. And you need...a lot of it.” He smiled softly. “So let me do my job, and get you bathed, so I can take you to Times Square tonight.”

Dean grinned and rolled quickly to his side but stood slowly when the soreness hit him, the high of his orgasm finally worn off and the reality of what he’d endured, _begged_ for, finally registering.

They bathed slowly, the door to the bathroom open so they could watch the sun go down behind giant skyscrapers and city lights replace the natural light of the day. There was just as much traffic at night, if not more, but there seemed to be less honking and tire squealing, like the people of New York relished this time of day similar to the way Dean did at home when he and Sammy used to watch the sun rise or set from their seats on the porch.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since you guys were really good, you get another new chapter today.
> 
> We're really loving the exchange going on in the comments of each chapter! We love seeing all your questions and guesses and the fact that you're interacting with one another in an inquisitive manner. Keep that shit up! 
> 
> Oh, and...this is mostly smut. No worries, we get back into plot soon! You guys are in for a ride. ;)
> 
> Y'all stay sexy and don't come until we tell you to. <3

They dressed in comfortable silence and Castiel wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist as he escorted him down the lobby and out the doors. Dean stopped by the curb, assuming they’d call for a cab, but Castiel shook his head and took his hand, leading him down the busy sidewalk. He pulled him close to his side again and kissed the top of his head, weaving them through the crowd. 

“Square’s only about a five minute walk,” he said finally. They passed a man sitting outside of a fancy hotel, with people passing him left and right. He had a cat bundled up in the ratty jacket he wore, his hair falling down in his face, holes in his shoes, the sign next to him reading ‘ _ Will work for food or money’.  _ Castiel pulled Dean to the side and doubled back, digging in his pocket before squatting down beside the man and handing him something, closing it inside his palm and covering his hand with both of his own. Dean could tell he was saying something to the man, his head nodding a few times as he spoke, and finally the man smiled at him and nodded back.

Castiel rejoined Dean, slipping an arm back around him, his expression one of peacefulness despite the bustle of the street. 

“You-”

Castiel hushed him, shaking his head. “Just let it be. It’s better that way.”

Dean didn’t ask after that, didn’t really  _ have  _ to, and the rest of the walk to Times Square was quick and full of sights Dean had only ever seen on tv or in the movies. The buildings stretched high into the sky, almost every surface covered with billboards and graphics. The lights were bright and it was loud and busy, but there was a magic about it that Dean found he couldn’t possibly put into words. There was an excitement, an expectancy, something about it that made him want to pull Castiel to him and kiss the life out of him. 

And there was something about the way Castiel looked there too, smiling and excited, even as someone who would much prefer being alone in his quiet home. He looked both in and out of place, like a tourist but also like a local. He pushed Dean gently forward through the crowd and into a less crowded area, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Dean looked up- and up, and up- and the Times Tower loomed over them, with the New Year’s ball sitting on top.

“Lotta history in that place,” Castiel said conversationally, resting his chin on the top of Dean’s head. “Can’t imagine having an office view from that building.”

“Hey, yours isn’t half bad,” Dean teased, reaching back to lay his hands on his waist.

“No, but nothing quite beats this,” Castiel sighed. “New York skyline is really quite beautiful, especially at night. It really is the city that never sleeps. No matter what time it is, some poor soul is working and you can see their office light.” 

“You speak from experience?” Dean raised a brow. 

“Unfortunately,” Castiel chuckled, nuzzling Dean’s hair. “I’m not as bad as I used to be, but I am a bit of a workaholic. I’ll admit, the view made it a little better.” 

Dean hummed and looked around, surprised and yet not at all at how many people were here. It was probably the whole population of his little town and then some. 

“You miss it?” he asked, looking back up at Castiel. “New York, I mean.”

“Oh...sometimes,” Castiel shrugged, placing a hand on the back of Dean’s neck and squeezing gently, massaging it. “Not the crowds so much, but the energy. The history. The diversity. You could live here for years and still not know every nook and cranny. But…” he frowned and shrugged again. “The noise, the bustle, the sheer volume of people...eventually it wore me out. Too busy, too... _ much _ . I needed somewhere quieter, slower, so I could spread out. Rest for a while. My life here was exciting, but draining. It aged me greatly, I fear.” 

Dean looked up at him, raising a brow. “Aw, you don’t look so bad.” He smirked and leaned back against him, sighing softly when Castiel’s arms wrapped securely around him again. “But you know, if you’re worried about your age, saying shit like that doesn’t help. No one actually talks like that, Cas.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

Dean shrugged, chuckling softly. “Just an observation.” He clicked his tongue, looking around at the people and the bright lights, trying to disassociate from the sounds of the cars and the murmurs of passing couples and families. “You ever think about coming back to somewhere like this? I mean, once you’re done at Hoppmann?”

Castiel paused for a moment, gently rubbing Dean’s stomach with his fingertips. “No. No, I don’t think so. I like the quiet. Even more so now that I came from this back to it. I don’t know where I may end up, but I don’t see something on this scale again.”

Dean relaxed somewhat, a little relieved to hear that but not uttering a word. Some part of him thought Castiel might tire of the small town and move back, or decide he wanted a more experienced Sub like Yulia and come to the big city to find one. It didn’t mean Castiel wasn’t moving away eventually, it gave Dean a little bit of hope. Maybe he’d have Castiel for a little while longer. 

“What about you?” Castiel nudged him gently. “Would you ever want to move to the city?” 

Dean scrunched up his face and shook his head. “No, never. Cool to visit, but I could never deal with this-“ he waved his hand at the crowd “-on a daily basis. I’m just a small town boy.” 

“Who took the midnight train?” Castiel said dryly. 

“Goin’ anywhere!” Dean sang, then laughed when Castiel looked down at him, bemused. 

“You never told me you could sing,” Castiel huffed, then paused. “Outside of the pretty noises you make in the den.” 

“I  _ can’t _ ,” Dean rolled his eyes, cheeks heating. “My brother used to pay me to stop singing in the car. I kinda did it bad on purpose, but still.” 

“Well you have a lovely voice,” Castiel said sincerely, taking his hand and leading him over to a nearby bench. He pulled Dean close, draping his arm around his shoulders. “You should really share things like this with me.”

“Didn’t think my singing voice was of particular importance within our contract,” Dean teased.

Castiel hummed, brushing his fingers lightly against Dean’s neck. “So what kind of future do you see for yourself, Dean?”

“What?”

Castiel nodded in front of them, watching people bustle by from all directions, traffic moving slowly but steadily, lights flashing and advertisements talking and playing music. “You asked if I was interested in coming back here, so I think asking about what you want for your future is relevant to the conversation.”

“I, um. I dunno, really.”

Castiel looked over at him, raising a brow. “School?”

Dean nodded, looking down at his lap. “Yeah...yeah, I think so. But after that...who knows. Definitely nothing like this, though.”

“I could imagine you somewhere on the East Coast. Perhaps just not as far North.” Castiel smiled over at him, ruffling his hair slightly. “But maybe Virginia, one of the Carolinas...probably closer to your pace.” He leaned back on the bench, sighing. “It’s nice there. You’d like it.”

“You been there?” Dean asked, snuggling closer to his side to ward off some of the chill in the air. 

“I’ve been just about everywhere,” Castiel chuckled, resting his cheek on the top of Dean’s head. “My kind of work takes me all over the country. Canada, as well. Japan once.”

“Ah, Japan,” Dean smirked. “Home of the tentacle porn.”

“Yes,” Castiel rolled his eyes. “Quite the achievement. I don’t know where this world would be without it.”

“Hey, everybody likes tentacle porn,” Dean shrugged. “They’re just too embarrassed to admit it.”

“And you aren’t?”

“Hell no,” Dean snorted then glanced up at Castiel. “I’m open-minded.”

“Clearly,” Castiel smiled and soothed down some of Dean’s hair. “I suppose you’d have to be, considering.”

Dean hummed and watched people come and go, some of them weaving expertly through the crowd and others looking completely lost. Dean supposed that’d be him if he didn’t have a New York expert on his arm. Dean couldn’t imagine how Castiel came to this big city by himself, fresh out of high school, and survived. Perhaps it was just sheer determination. From what little he’d heard from his dad, Castiel had basically been tortured throughout his school career and probably jumped at the opportunity to get the hell out of that school and town. Dean wanted to ask about it, but was scared to death to bring it up. Castiel was so damn private and clammed up when the subject of his past came up. Plus, Dean wasn’t really supposed to know about the bullying. Castiel had never offered up the information and would almost definitely be upset if he found out Dean knew.

“Where are you?” Castiel spoke softly.

“Sorry,” Dean licked his lips. “Lost in thought, I guess.” He spotted a hotdog stand and grinned, sitting up and digging through his pockets. “Dude, a hotdog from an  _ actual  _ hotdog stand. I gotta try it.”

Castiel made a face only a rich snob would make, but didn’t make any move to stop Dean.

“If you must.” He shook his head. 

Dean hopped off the bench and practically bounced over to the stand. Castiel’s eyes widened when the boy came back over with a hotdog topped with every condiment known to man.

“What is that?” Castiel stared at it as if it might come to life.

“‘The Works’,” Dean smiled, sitting back down and taking a huge bite. Castiel watched with a slightly disgusted look on his face and shook his head when Dean swallowed. “Holy shit, that’s  _ awesome _ .”

“It can’t possibly be good.” Castiel looked at skeptically.

“Cas,” Dean sighed. “How could you have lived in New York for as long as you did and not have one of these?”

“Perhaps because I have  _ taste _ ,” Castiel grumbled. 

“Just try a bite.”

“Absolutely not.”  
“Come on,” Dean whined, holding it up and pouting. “One wittle bite. _Please_ , daddy?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Dean smirked as he took another bite, closing his eyes and making a bit of a show with a low moan. “Come on. Please? I’ll do anything you want, daddy.”

Castiel looked ready to refuse again but paused, raising a brow. “Anything?”

Dean swallowed and nodded, holding up the hotdog again. “Anything.”

Castiel pressed his lips together briefly before wrapping his fingers around Dean’s wrist and guiding the food to his mouth, taking a small bite. He almost immediately made a face, but dutifully chewed and swallowed.

“Seriously?”

“Revolting.” Castiel said with a smile. “But the deal is done.”

“I cannot believe I let you sleep with me.” Dean shook his head, and Castiel laughed as the boy finished off the rest of his food. 

“I took you to the one of the nicest restaurants in the city and you barely commented on it, but you lose your mind over a mediocre New York City hotdog stand.”

Dean shrugged. “I’m a cheap date. And the food there was good too, but-”

“But?”

Dean quirked a smile and cut his eyes over at him. “A little prudish for my taste, if I’m being honest.”

Castiel chuckled. “Oh, so you think I’m a prude?”

“Maybe not behind closed doors, but in the light of day, yep.”

“I resent that.”

“You should.”

Castiel huffed, shaking his head as he looked out over the droves of people coming and going. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping his thumb against the screen absently, tonguing his bottom lip.

Dean frowned. “What?”

Castiel stood suddenly and held out his hand, mischievous look on his face. “C’mon.”

Dean took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled up, frowning as Castiel started dragging him through the crowd. “Where are we going?”

“To prove to you that I am most certainly  _ not  _ a prude.”

Dean didn’t get anymore answers out of him and resigned himself to be dragged around New York. They ended up at what looked like a theater, a decent crowd in and out of the lobby, and Dean clung to Castiel tightly as the man paid for their tickets. 

“A play isn’t really an argument against prudeness….” Dean mumbled into his back, watching others mingle. It certainly didn’t look like your typical play crowd. There were a surprising number of gay couples, as well as women and a few embarrassed-looking men. 

“It’s not a play, per se.” Castiel turned in Dean’s arms and kissed his forehead. “You’ll see. I think you’ll like it. At the very least you’ll rethink my  _ prudeness _ .” 

“What, this secretly a massive orgy?” Dean snorted, allowing Castiel to lead him further inside. 

“You think I would share you with someone?” Castiel glanced at him, raising a brow, eyes a touch darker than before. 

“No,” Dean mumbled, swallowing.

Castiel led him inside the actual theater portion of the building and toward the front, glancing down at their tickets before finding their table, close enough to the stage that Dean could see shadows dancing beneath the curtain. They sat and Castiel flagged down one of the staff and ordered them drinks, then leaned back in his chair, looking at his phone again before shoving it back in his pocket.

“Good timing,” he said offhandedly, looking over at Dean. “I was afraid it would be too late to get us tickets.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what this is?”

Castiel grinned and said nothing, instead reaching over and pulling Dean closer by the bottom of his chair. He draped his arm over his shoulders and slid him a beer when the drinks arrived, picking up the glass of bourbon he’d ordered for himself and raising it to his lips.

“So it’s not a play.”

Castiel shrugged. “Kind of.”

Dean frowned and looked at the stage, taking a sip of his beer. “A striptease?”

Castiel hummed and tilted his head back and forth as he considered it. “Close.”

“How the fuck can both a play and striptease be close?!”

Castiel reached up and held Dean’s chin firmly, giving him a hard look. “Watch that mouth, boy, and sit there and enjoy the show. And when we get home, you can put on a show for me.” He quirked a smile and took a sip of his drink. “That I orchestrate, of course.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, hesitantly leaning toward Castiel and laying his head against the man’s shoulder. The softness of his blue sweater was a nice change from his business suits, and he wished he could see Castiel more often outside of his business persona. Even the den time spent together was weirdly formal. Dean felt like he hadn’t ever seen Castiel truly comfortable, truly  _ himself,  _ but he figured sweater Castiel was as close as he’d ever gotten. Perhaps as close as he’d ever get.

Dean wasn’t sure what he expected when the show started, but it most certainly wasn’t what he got. It truly was a mixture between a strip show and a play, he supposed, with singing and dancing and lots of nearly nude dudes _ and _ chicks. It was essentially acted out porn without actual penetration, in a world in which everyone could sing and dance with exceptional talent. Tonight’s show was, very coincidentally, the acting out of a high school graduation, and Dean blushed heavily in his seat throughout and hoped Castiel didn’t notice.

Dean was actually sad to see it end and applauded with the rest of the audience, trying and failing not to stare at the many crotches a mere few feet away. They waited for the crowd to thin out, sipping on their drinks, until Castiel finally deemed it time to go. 

“Well?” Castiel asked him when they started down the sidewalk. It was much later now, the sky dark and the air more than a little cold, but still people were out and about. 

“Well,” Dean smiled up at him, leaning heavily on his side, Castiel’s arm wrapped securely around him. “I guess you were right. You’re not a prude.” 

Castiel chuckled, squeezing Dean’s waist. “That I’m not. Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded and huffed a laugh. “Half the time I couldn’t decide if I was aroused or entertained. They were all so…”

“Talented?” Castiel supplied with a smirk. 

Dean blushed and cleared his throat. “Yeah... _ talented _ .” He glanced up at Castiel and tilted his head. “So what was it?” 

“Broadway Bares,” Castiel said. “Risqué entertainment. I’ve gone to their shows for a few years now. Bit of a guilty pleasure for me.” 

“I can’t believe you took me to a broadway striptease,” Dean laughed, shaking his head, leaning in as Castiel pulled him against his side.

“There are so many other places I could’ve taken you to ‘prove myself’,” Castiel said with a grin, using finger quotes and all. “But that was probably the least jarring of them all. Just know it can get worse. Or better. However you choose to look at it.”

“Do I want to know?”

Castiel shrugged. “Probably. But they’re an adventure for another time.”

Dean sighed, his smile fading as they reached the corner and turned, their hotel looming ahead in the distance.

“What?”

Castiel was looking down at him with a raised brow, his hand coming up to squeeze the back of Dean’s neck.

“Just...coming back means bed. Then you go back to work tomorrow and I’m-”

“Well first of all,” Castiel interrupted him, “coming back means I get to have my way with you. And second, you’ll have me to yourself for much more of the day tomorrow. I have one meeting first thing in the morning, and the rest is hands on. Meaning…” he stopped at the door of the hotel, turning to look down at Dean, “you’re coming with me, and I’m gonna teach you some things you don’t know.”

Dean grinned and pressed his tongue teasingly to the back of his teeth, taking a step toward Cas, pulling lightly on the front of his sweater. “You teach me things I don’t know all the time.”

Castiel laid his hands on Dean’s cheeks and stared at him, smile pulling slightly at the corner of his lips. “I have to take care of something down here, but I’ll only be a few minutes. In that time, I want you to go upstairs and take your position at the foot of the bed...like you would in the den.”

Dean nodded mutely, his throat going dry and his heart speeding up. No matter how many times he did this, no matter how many scenes they do, he would never grow tired of it, never cease to heat up with excitement. He always got a little nervous, too, despite Castiel’s constant reassurance that was doing well. Dean still felt so inexperienced and sometimes worried Castiel would tire of it. 

He turned, feeling Castiel’s hot gaze on him as he headed towards the elevator. The ride up seemed overly long and he stepped into their room with trembling legs. He took the time to fold his clothes after undressing, knowing Castiel would appreciate the detail. He futzed with himself in the bathroom for a few minutes before assuming his presentation position at the foot of the bed. The carpet was so-so; not nearly as soft as Castiel’s rug in the den, but better than hardwood. Dean rolled his shoulders, head bowed and hands clasped, staring silently down at the floor as he waited.

Castiel was good on his word, arriving just a few minutes later and silently shuffling into the room. He kept the lights dim and shrugged off his coat, intense unwavering stare on Dean.  Dean was careful not to fidget under his gaze, keeping his head bowed as Castiel moved about the room. He saw from the corner of his eye Castiel toe off his shoes and roll up his sleeves. The tie was removed and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Dean almost salivated at the glimpse of that perfect collarbone and took a deep breath to pace himself. If he showed any hint of impatience, Castiel had a tendency to draw things out as a form of punishment.

“That’s my good boy,” Castiel rumbled, coming to stand in front of him and running a hand through his short hair. “All ready for me.”

Dean didn’t speak, leaning into Castiel’s touch with a small smile. The anger from earlier, the worries about Yulia and the future, it all melted away and left nothing but a warm, fuzzy feeling that Dean was quickly learning he could only achieve with Castiel. With pleasing him, obeying him, and being taken care of by him. 

Castiel sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, palms on his thighs. “Stand up.”

Dean scrambled to his feet and clasped his hands back in front of him, head down but cutting his eyes briefly up at Castiel. Castiel reached out to place his hands on Dean’s thighs, sliding them up slowly until they rested on his hips. He pulled him forward, positioning him between his legs, and pressed open-mouthed kisses along his torso, fingers brushing over each one. Dean stood there dutifully, sighing softly when one of Cas’s hands slid around to his back and down to cup his ass.

“You may touch me,” Castiel said, his voice somewhat muffled against Dean’s skin. Dean immediately had his hands in Cas’s hair, sliding them down around his neck and down his shoulders. Cas’s hands moved back down to his thighs and he stood suddenly, lifting Dean with him, and Dean barely had the chance to hold to him before Cas turned them and tossed him onto the bed with a slight bounce.

“Stretch out into an X,” Castiel commanded, standing at the foot of the bed as he pulled off his socks and tossed them to the side. He straightened his collar and untucked his shirt before unbuckling his belt and slipping it through the hoops.

Dean obeyed, stretching his arms and legs as far out as he could. Castiel wordlessly attached one end of the belt to Dean’s left wrist and the other to the headboard, picking up his tie as he crossed over to the other side of the bed and bound that wrist as well. Dean’s breath was shallow and his heart pounded in his chest as he watched Castiel slide open the closet doors and rifle through his bag, pulling out what appeared to be a small chain and a metal pole a little over a foot long with cuffs attached to the ends. He held the chain between his teeth as he walked to the foot of the bed, fiddling with the pole until he slid it out to twice its size and locked it into place. He sat the chain on the bed and looked up at Dean, raising a brow.

“Safe words?”

“Yellow means slow down,” Dean said hoarsely, swallowing hard to try to wet his throat.

“Mhm,” Castiel looked down as he attached one of the cuffs to Dean’s ankle, then back up as he moved to the other. “And?”

“Red means stop.”

“Stop immediately.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Castiel attached the second cuff and moved back between Dean’s legs, finding the bar secure when he gave it a tug. He grabbed the chain before disappearing briefly into the bathroom and returning with a small paper cup. He sat at the head of the bed and held Dean’s head up and the cup to his lips, waiting patiently while Dean drained it. When he was done he sat it to the side and raised the chain in his hand, two clamps dangling down from it that he hadn’t seen before.

“Do you know what these are?”

Dean swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I t-think so.”

Castiel quirked a brief smile and licked his lips quickly before he reached over and attached the first one to Dean’s nipple, looking up at him. “How does it feel? I can decrease the pressure if it’s too much.”

Dean thought for a moment and shook his head. “No, no...it feels good.”

Castiel smiled and attached the other one carefully, then gave the chain a gentle tug and watched as Dean twitched, a moan bursting from his throat. 

“Mmm, yes, I thought so,” Castiel murmured, almost thoughtfully, as if the whole thing was one big experiment. Dean glared up at him, but Castiel only chuckled and ghosted his fingers down Dean’s stomach. 

Dean looked down at himself and shuddered. Just to be thorough, Dean tested the bar and found it be in top condition, leaving him no room to budge or even twitch his legs. They were forced apart just enough to be embarrassing, completely exposed and utterly at Castiel’s mercy. 

“I’ve been contemplating bondage for you,” Castiel murmured, fingers brushing along the cuffs around Dean’s ankles. “While you didn’t respond overly positive to the blindfold, you did seem to enjoy the handcuffs. I’d like to introduce more of the like to you, ease you in a bit, see what you like and how far we can go.”

Dean licked his dry lips and blinked up at Castiel with wide eyes. “There’s, uh, more than this?”

“Oh yes,” Castiel nodded, sliding his hand back up Dean’s leg and squeezing his thigh. “Much more. I have a theory about you, but I want to explore it slowly. To avoid another ‘red’ situation.”

“What theory?” Dean asked hoarsely, watching Castiel’s hand inch towards his cock- swollen and twitching- and biting back a whine when the bastard stopped just before his fingers could graze him. 

“Mm, I’ll go into detail about it later,” Castiel shook his head. “I want to see what happens here first.” He stood and grazed fingers up Dean’s chest and back down, pointedly avoiding his cock and continuing down his leg as he walked down the length of the bed. “Do you need anything before we begin? More water?”

Dean shook his head. “I’m okay right now.”

“I must admit,” Castiel said, stopping at the end of the bed and turning to face him, pulling idly at the cuff around his ankle. “Seeing you laid out for me like this...it excites me in a way I can’t explain.” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth as he looked Dean over, then let it drop to his side with a  _ slap _ , shaking his head a little as he turned and walked over to the dresser. He fidgeted with his sleeves and Dean heard the clink of his cufflinks on the polished wood as he removed them, then rolled the sleeves back up again. He turned back to Dean and shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the dresser. He tilted his head, brow furrowed in thought. 

“So many possibilities. I’m not sure which I want more today.”

Dean pulled idly at the bindings around his wrists, finding them comfortable but not leaving much room for play. Castiel clicked his tongue and shook his head in warning, and Dean sagged back against the mattress, doing his best to keep his eyes on the man. Castiel pushed himself off the dresser and stepped up to the edge of the bed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and tracing fingertips up the arches of Dean’s feet. He smirked when Dean arched, trying desperately, impossibly, to pull his feet away.

Castiel laid a hand on his own chest, tapping absently a few times as he smiled mischievously. “But my  _ god,  _ you do look fucking gorgeous spread out like this for me. It would be a damn shame not to enjoy that in the fullest. So-” he clicked his tongue and knelt onto the bed, carefully avoiding the bar as he settled between Dean’s legs, “prostate massage it is.”

He pulled a bottle of lube out of his pocket and tossed it on the bed, reaching up and ghosting fingers down Dean’s chest, then giving the chain another tug, chuckling darkly when Dean arched and hissed, looking wide-eyed down at him. 

“Oh, and to make things a tad more interesting…” he stopped and thought for a minute, then shrugged, “for  _ both  _ of us...if you come without my permission, I’m going to take you across my knee and redden that pretty little ass of yours.”

Dean’s eyes widened even more if it were possible and he swallowed thickly, licking his lips nervously. He shifted- or tried to, anyway- and inhaled slowly. 

“Y-yes, daddy,” he said with an unsteady voice. “I won’t come until you say so.”

“Good boy,” Castiel purred, then tilted his head. “Though I do love spanking that ass raw.”

“Sadist,” Dean mumbled and sucked in a breath at the dark blue eyes that snapped up, pinning him with a hard stare that promised all sorts of naughty, slightly painful things. 

“You have no idea,” Castiel spoke softly, a dangerous promise that left Dean terrified and so fucking turned on it hurt.

He twitched when the cap to the lube popped open and Dean watched with mounting anticipation as Castiel coated his fingers. Castiel reached between his stretched legs and teased his rim, circling and massaging the twitching entrance with torturously slow movements. Dean trembled, breath coming in short bursts, his legs straining against the bar as he tried and failed to squirm. 

“Why do you torture me?” Dean groaned, tossing his head back. 

“It’s sort of what I do,” Castiel raised a brow, massaging the rim before slipping the tip of his finger inside. “In case you’ve forgotten, sweet boy, this is why you came to me.”

“You’re too damn good at it,” Dean huffed, his hole clenching when Castiel sunk his finger in a little deeper. 

“If you wouldn’t be so responsive,” Castiel said lowly, crooking his finger and smirking when Dean groaned again and tried to grind down to no avail. “It wouldn’t be so much fun.”

Castiel made a circle between his thumb and middle finger around Dean’s cock and stroked, only barely touching him every couple of seconds. Dean watched him wide-eyed, pulling lightly at his restraints, making little noises he couldn’t seem to stop each time Castiel’s fingers brushed against his flushed cock. His whole body shuddered when Castiel touched the head of his cock and brushed his prostate with the pad of a finger. Castiel looked up at him with a sly grin as Dean caught his breath, giving him a few seconds of recovery before slipping a second finger inside. 

“Besides,” Castiel continued casually, “you like when I- in your words-  _ torture  _ you, don’t you? You beg me for it. And anyway, could I really be considered a sadist if my greatest joy is seeing you pleased in the end?” He paused a beat, stretching out on his stomach and pressing a kiss to the inside of Dean’s thigh. He pushed his fingers in deep and Dean let out a small yelp. “I don’t think so. I don’t necessarily take pleasure in your  _ pain,  _ sweet boy. No, I take pleasure in being able to watch you flirt with the edge of ecstasy. I take pleasure in being the one responsible for getting you there. For being the  _ only  _ one who can do this to you.”

Dean moaned and let his head fall back, the sight of Castiel between his legs, staring up at him, becoming too much too quick. Of course, Castiel meant that within their contract, he was supposed to be the only one Dean was having any type of sexual relationship with. What he was pretty sure Castiel didn’t know was exactly how right he was. No one would ever do for Dean what Castiel was doing for him now. Castiel fucking Novak had _ruined_ him for anyone else.

Castiel laid his hand flat on Dean’s stomach and pulled his fingers almost all the way out before sliding them in again slowly, turning his head to mouth at his thigh as he looked up at him with hooded eyes. Dean watched him and tried to focus elsewhere, on anything other than the heat building low in his belly and the thick fingers stretching him open, brushing his prostate, gently circling-

He cried out as his orgasm was punched out of him, a long moan escaping when the stars exploded behind his eyes and Castiel continued his assault. It felt like it went on forever, but he finally did open his eyes again, looking down to find Castiel watching him with a bemused half smile...his stomach completely dry.

“You got lucky,” Castiel said with a shake of his head. “I suppose I can let you slide...since you didn’t  _ physically  _ come. But if it happens again, I won’t be so forgiving.” Dean’s legs trembled and he whined pitifully as Castiel massaged the sensitive nerves, watching him with a malicious smile while he scarcely dragged the tips of his fingers down the head of his cock.

Dean wanted to arch into the feathery touch, but his bindings kept him still. It was tortuous in a way, but also intense in a way Dean had never experienced until now. It forced him to focus on Castiel’s touch, however brief it was, and his slow ministrations against his prostate. Dean couldn’t grind, or squirm, or even so much as lean into it. All he could do was take it, slow and steady, and let Castiel play him like an instrument. 

Dean remembered the other scene, how the handcuffs’ cool steel felt on his skin, keeping him tethered so he could let his mind float on what he could only think of as a dark sea. Gentle waves- Castiel- pushing him along towards ecstasy, the world far away, sounds muted, every slight touch to his skin like thorns wrapped in silk. Smooth and just a little painful. It was a delicate balance. So easy to drown, so easy for the thorns to bite harder and the silk to turn to ash. Castiel kept him level, never allowing to drift too far or sink too deep. 

Dean sluggishly tugged on the belt and tie. They didn’t dig in like the steel did, but they held him tight. They brought on the same sense of floating, his body weightless on the waves, dependent entirely on Castiel to bring him to ecstasy and then pull him back. 

He was pulled briskly back to awareness when Castiel tugged sharply on the chain of the clamps and he yelped, hissing through his teeth and pressing his head back into the pillow. He wrapped his fingers around the belt and tie and pulling lightly again, jerking as he felt Castiel’s lips and tongue against his thigh. He looked down in time to see the man kiss the head of his cock and wrap his lips around it, swirling his tongue and dipping into the slit, then pulling off with a wet pop. Dean arched off the bed and cried out again, the sensations overwhelming, his body overheated, sweat beginning to bead on his chest. Castiel’s fingers continued to pump tantalizingly in and out, only brushing his prostate every couple of passes, just enough to keep him teetering on the edge of orgasm but not quite enough to push him over.

Dean was a panting and moaning mess by the time he finally felt like he could come at any second, and he was fully prepared to do so even without permission, knowing he and Castiel would both enjoy the “punishment”. But Castiel knew him too well, damn him, and stopped his ministrations abruptly just before Dean felt like he was going to burst.

He chuckled darkly as Dean whined, a sob escaping from his throat before he could stop it. He slowly raised a hand and Dean watched as he used two fingers, one on the top side of his cock and one along the veiny underside, to stroke softly along the top of his shaft and his head. 

“D-daddy, p-please,” Dean sobbed, “I’ve been g-good, daddy, please let m-me-”

“Oh, I know,” Castiel said calmly, “you’ve been very good. So good that I just...I can’t get enough of watching you.”

Dean raised his head to look at him through watery eyes. “C-can I please come, daddy?”

A slow smile spread across Castiel’s face and he shook his head. “No, baby. But that was very polite. I appreciate good manners.”

Dean let his head fall back with a sob, tears trickling out and sliding down the sides of his face. He tugged at his restraints, muscles in his arms straining, and jerked when Castiel pulled on the clamp chain again.

“Enough of that, boy,” Castiel muttered, grazing a finger over a clamp and watching Dean hiss through his teeth. “You’re going to learn some patience.”

Dean opened his mouth for a no doubt snarky reply, but yelped when Castiel very suddenly slapped his cheek. It hardly hurt at all and really was more of pat, but the shock of it was enough to make Dean snap his jaw shut and blink down at Castiel with wide eyes.

“You’re also going to learn to watch that smart mouth of yours,” he said darkly, gently stroking the abused cheek. “Or I’ll be forced to put it to better use.”

Dean whined and parted his lips when those fingers traced his bottom lip, his tongue darting out to briefly taste it before Castiel pulled away. 

“Though what I had in mind for it is something you would probably enjoy anyway,” Castiel chuckled, kissing his way down Dean’s chest and nipping at his happy trail. “You like having my cock stuffed in your mouth, don’t you, boy?”

Dean groaned and nodded, lifting his head to watch as Castiel mouthed at the base of his cock only to frustratingly pull away. Dean twitched when his prostate was prodded, his cock jerking, the head glistening with a barely suppressed orgasm that Dean desperately wanted to release.

Castiel hummed, sitting back on his calves and sliding his hand up Dean’s abdomen. He pulled slowly on the chain, smirking up at Dean when he arched and whimpered. He moved his hand back down as his withdrew one finger, grazing his teeth over his bottom lip as he watched Dean squirm under his touch. His hand stopped at the base of Dean’s cock, circling but not touching, and he very deliberately wrapped his fingers around the base and stroked upwards.

Everything in Dean felt like it was on fire, hyper sensitive and bordering on painful. Castiel stroked him expertly, long fingers grazing over his leaking head and sliding wetly over his shaft. It was becoming too much too fast, and he was losing the ability to control anything his body was doing.

“Daddy, I’m g- I’m gonna-”

“You better not come, sweet boy,” Castiel said lowly, frustratingly calm.

Dean panted desperately and pulled involuntarily at the restraints, stretching out his legs, curling his toes. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about something, about  _ anything _ else, trying to will away his impending orgasm. Castiel didn’t let up, though, not like he usually did when he was edging him and felt him getting close, and in the end Dean couldn’t hold it back any longer, stars exploding behind his eyes and lightheadedness making him feel heavy as he erupted by Castiel’s hand. It took him a long time to realize the sounds he was hearing loud in his ears were his own needy moans and whimpers, and he trembled uncontrollably and thrusted into the man’s hand as much as his bindings would allow. 

He felt Castiel move from the bed before he opened his eyes, as tremors still wracked his body, and he looked dazedly around for him. He found him at the foot of the bed, looking smug as he wiped his hand with one of the soft bath towels.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, turning back to toss the towel on the dresser, then crossing his arms over his chest. “What am I going to do with you, boy?”

Dean swallowed and blinked his watery eyes, stray tears falling down his cheeks. “D-daddy, I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered, dragging in air, his muscles straining and twitching with the aftershocks of his release. “I t-tried, daddy, p-please-”

“I know,” Castiel said gently, walking around to the side of the bed and cup Dean’s cheek and wipe away the dampness. “But tears won’t sway me, sweet boy. I’m going to have to punish you. One day you’ll learn to obey.”

Castiel was toying with him, Dean vaguely registered. He didn’t actually seem the least bit disappointed; in fact, he seemed excited, looking down at Dean in adoration.

“But I do,” Dean whimpered, straining his neck when Castiel pulled his hand away. “I’m a good boy, daddy.”

“Good boys don’t come without permission.” Castiel clicked his tongue and reached over to untie the belt from Dean’s wrist. Dean groaned as the dead arm dropped to the mattress and stretched it out slowly, flexing his fingers. Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and laid the arm across his lap, massaging the muscles with expert hands.

“B-but I tried,” Dean sniffed, a tremor going through him. 

“I know,” Castiel said, untying his other wrist and massaging that arm as well. Next he released Dean’s ankles and helped him bend his knees a few times, massaging the calves. “And you did very well...up until the very end.”

“You…” Dean shivered, looking curiously at Castiel’s too-calm face. “You did that on purpose.”

Castiel cocked a brow as he massaged down to Dean’s ankle, only barely glancing up at him. “You think I made you come intentionally just so I could watch you enjoy your punishment?” He finally looked up and quirked a smile. “I’d never.”

Dean let his head fall back with a huff, too exhausted to do much more than kick lazily at the man’s hand. Castiel chuckled and ran his hand up Dean's calf.

“How do you feel?”

Dean stretched his arms and legs, feeling a little stiff and sore, but utterly sated. “Feel okay.”

“Good.” He tapped Dean’s leg as he turned to sit on the foot of the bed. “C’mon now.”

Dean moved as quickly as his body would allow, crawling down to Castiel and letting out a slow breath as he laid across his lap, gripping the comforter and laying his cheek on the soft material. He vaguely considered the mess on his stomach but assumed that Castiel didn’t care, being that when it came to their bedroom play, everything he did was intentional. Castiel ran a hand over the curve of Dean’s ass, letting the other rest on the back of his neck.

“We’ll do five again. Count them.”

Dean inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, forcing his slightly sore body to relax and trying not to twitch every time Castiel’s hand passed over his cheek. That same hand came down hard suddenly and ripped a yelp from Dean’s throat, followed by a hoarse “o-one”. He clutched at the comforter and groaned at the sting on his skin, feeling Castiel’s clothed cock twitch against his side. 

“Two,” Dean choked when the hand came down again on the same cheek, the sound loud, making his cheeks flush. Castiel didn’t hold back like he did last time, each slap hard and sharp, the sting growing into a pulse with the third spanking. 

“Three,” came a whimper, Dean’s hips jerking and his teeth biting into the sheets. 

Castiel paused and smoothed his palm over the reddening cheek, massaging the globe and watching Dean squirm with a pleased smirk. A finger slipped between the crack and teased Dean’s puffy rim, chuckling when the boy let loose a broken groan.

Another slap came down and Dean hissed out a “four”, his hips pumping weakly and his cock giving a valiant twitch. The last slap was hard and fast, stinging sharply and causing Dean to jerk roughly in Castiel’s lap. 

“F-five,” he gasped, sagging and panting into the comforter, twitching with tiny tremors. 

Castiel massaged his stinging skin, mimicking the movement with his other hand on Dean’s neck. He moved it up into Dean’s hair and massaged the scalp, shifting just enough to remind Dean of his erection.

“How do you feel, baby?”

“Mmm,” Dean groaned, muffled by the comforter. He turned his head back to the side and panted softly, closing his eyes as Castiel’s fingertips lulled him into an even more euphoric state. 

“Words, boy,” Castiel said softly.

“M’good, daddy,” Dean forced out, stretching in his lap and hiding a small smile at Castiel’s intake of breath. 

“You did beautifully, sweet boy,” Castiel rumbled, dragging his thumb down Dean’s jaw when he turned his head to look back at him. “So beautifully, in fact, that I’m going to let  _ you _ decide how you want me to come.”

“Fuck me,” Dean said immediately, though his voice was muffled and it came out as more of a groan.

Castiel hummed and parted Dean’s cheeks, chuckling when the boy blushed and hid his face in the comforter. Castiel gently circled Dean’s rim, gazing appreciatively at the little red hole. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, massaging his thumb over the puckered entrance. “You must be tender here. And your prostate will be very sensitive.”

“Don’t care,” Dean mustered up the energy to lift his hips, enticing Castiel with a slight jiggle of his ass. “Want you to fuck me.”

Castiel pressed his lips together. “It might hurt a little, baby.”

“I think we’ve established I like a little pain,” Dean huffed, turning his head to look up at Castiel and bat his pretty eyelashes. “Please, daddy? I love it when you fuck me.”

Castiel exhaled a little roughly and shook his head. “That’s unfair, using those pretty eyes against me.”

“You know you wanna bury that cock inside me,” Dean smirked spread his thighs as much as he could and pushed his hips back, exposing his entrance. “I know how much you love my tight little hole.”

Castiel scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded, leaning back to grab the bottle of lube and hand it to Dean. He patted his back gently.

“Alright, you little brat. Start preparing yourself.”

Dean moved slowly off his lap, admittedly making a bit of a show of it, and Castiel stood, smirking down at him as he unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. Dean flopped onto his back and popped open the cap on the lube, slicking his fingers and reaching between his legs. He watched Castiel with hooded eyes as the man removed his soiled slacks, freeing his thick cock which hung hard between his legs. 

Dean watched appreciatively as Castiel crossed over to the closet again and dug in their bag for a condom, tearing it open with his teeth as he came back to the bed. He didn't know why Castiel was bothering with the condom now after the last time, but didn't dare say anything, instead focusing on getting himself comfortably prepared. 

Castiel rolled the condom onto his shaft and tapped Dean's shin, gesturing him closer as he sat back down. Dean scrambled to his knees and crawled over, looping his arms around Castiel's neck as he pulled him into his lap.

“Gonna leave it to you, sweet boy,” Castiel smiled up at him, running a hand through his hair and resting it on his lower back. “Go at whatever pace is comfortable.”

Dean shifted and lifted up just enough to guide Castiel’s cock to his entrance, the head nudging his rim before he slowly sank down, groaning at the gradual stretch and grunting when Castiel was fully sheathed. Dean only allowed himself a few moments of adjusting before he started to move, his thighs lifting and dropping in sluggish thrusts, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Castiel’s hand found his hip and his nails dug in with every bounce, those too blue eyes watching Dean with the usual intense stare. Dean went slow, to savor the slight burn and to maybe torture Castiel just a little. 

“That’s it, sweet boy,” Castiel murmured, stroking his back and leaning back on the other hand, his eyes raking up and down Dean’s bouncing body. “You look so fucking good. You  _ feel _ so fucking good.”

“Daddy,” Dean groaned breathlessly, his body tired and sated, but his desire- his  _ need- _ to please and satisfy Castiel overcoming any need to collapse onto the bed in a boneless heap. He leaned forward, resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder as he continued to move, dragging that cock slowly in and out. 

Dean wasn't sure when the switch was flipped, or what to make of it, but one second Castiel was watching his  _ sweet boy _ do what he was contractually- albeit more than willingly- there to do, and the next his arm was tight around his waist and pulling him close while the other held the back of his head. A soft gesture, an  _ intimate _ one. He helped Dean move slowly up and down as he breathed against his neck, pressing kisses there and along his shoulder. Suddenly it was only the two of them moving together, the background fading, the contract and all the obligated moments up until then a distant memory. It didn't feel like any of their scenes before. In fact, it didn't feel like  _ anything _ Dean had ever experienced. 

He tightened his arms around Castiel's shoulders and buried his face in his neck, inhaling his scent, memorizing it. 

“I love you, daddy,” he whispered breathlessly against his neck. 

“I love you too, sweet boy,” Castiel said back, pulling back to look up at him, cupping his cheek. His gaze was intense, as always, and for a moment he looked like he was going to say something else. But the moment passed and he pulled Dean close to him again, grunting softly when Dean sunk down and circled his hips. 

For the next few minutes there was no sound other than their panted breath and soft moans, until Castiel finally came with a strained groan, clutching Dean to him. 

Dean continued to circle his hips slowly, letting Castiel ride it out, until the man sighed softly into his neck. Dean stilled, panting and skin flushed, and Castiel gently nudged him onto his back. Dean went with a weak grunt, arms and legs splayed out, and stared dazedly up at the ceiling. Castiel was beside him seconds later, pulling him close, sweaty skin sticking together. Neither of them seemed to care, though, too sated and wrapped up in whatever moment had passed between them that both were unwilling to inspect too closely. Dean still felt it now as he was wrapped in Castiel’s arms, face pressed to his chest, hot breath on his neck as Castiel murmured into his skin. 

“Sweet boy,” he whispered, so softly that Dean almost couldn’t hear it. “My sweet baby…” 

Dean fell asleep to the gentle mantra and wasn’t awoken until hours later when he blinked open his eyes to find Castiel gently cleaning him up. He laid in silence and watched him, taking in every detail of Castiel. His sharp jaw, the salt and pepper stubble that was perpetually covering his chin and cheeks, the biteable neck, his strong arms that Dean just loved having wrapped around him, those thick thighs that were almost all muscle. Dean could also see the scars, mostly old, scattered here and there across the tan skin. He could guess where they were from, but always wanted to ask about them anyway. Before he realized what he was doing, Dean reached out and gently traced one along his rib, the old scar slightly discolored among the naturally tan skin. 

Castiel finished what he was doing and tossed the towel to the side, gently grabbing Dean's hand and raising it to his lips as he laid back down beside him.

“Should really get you in the bath,” he murmured, giving Dean a concerned once-over. Dean didn't respond but pulled his hand free, looking back down at Castiel's body as he found the scar again. 

“Where did these come from?” he asked quietly, avoiding Castiel's gaze. 

“Mmm, not sure,” Castiel said easily, laying his hand on Dean's cheek, stroking his cheekbone. “So long ago, it's difficult to say.”

Dean looked up at him through his lashes, pressing his lips together as he sighed softly. “You're not gonna tell me, are you?”

Castiel paused, shifting slightly and rolling his shoulders back. His expression was carefully neutral, and he didn't even bother trying to look at all confused by the question. “Tell you what?”

Dean watched his fingers trace the scar, then looked up, finding the faint one on his lip that his father had mentioned. He frowned and moved to trace that one, which Castiel miraculously allowed. He watched Dean with a sort of strong wariness, where they both knew fully the conversation they were having without Castiel having to admit to it. 

“Is that why you do this?”

“In part, yes.” Castiel held his hand again and pressed it to his lips. “But a very small part. What you see...that's the only lasting impact of it. I've not forgotten, but I've forgiven.”

Dean clenched his jaw and turned away, staring hard at the wall until Castiel’s firm grip on his chin forced him to look up at calm blue eyes.

“You’re upset,” Castiel said simply, blinking down at him.

“Yes, I’m fucking upset,” Dean huffed. “Those assholes beat the shit out of you every damn day. They don’t deserve forgiveness. I hate…” He closed his eyes, feeling them water, and shook his head. “I hate that they hurt you. I hate that you didn’t have anyone to help you.”

Castiel sighed softly and kissed Dean’s forehead, then bumped his own against it as he stroked Dean’s cheek. “There you go again. Getting worked up over something that happened years ago.”

“Cas,” Dean said exasperatedly.  “I think this warrants getting ‘worked up’ over. They left  _ scars _ on you and why? ‘Cause you were different? Fuck that, Cas. You should be pissed.”

“Why?” Castiel raised a brow. “It doesn’t change anything. I’d rather not waste my time.”

“Fine,” Dean threw his hands up. “ _ I’ll  _ be pissed for you.”

“You will not,” Castiel clicked his tongue. “I’d rather you focus on much more important things. What’s done is done, sweet boy. I’ve moved on.”

Dean huffed and turned on his side, glaring at the comforter as he picked at the material. He felt Castiel pressed up against him and the scratch of his stubble on his shoulder.

“How did you find out?” Castiel asked, reaching down to lay his hand flat over Dean’s chest.

“Dad,” Dean grunted. “Said the guys at your school would beat you up, sometime so bad you needed stitches.”

Castiel paused. “I don't know why your dad would tell you something like that.”

Dean snorted. “Well it's not like he has any idea of… this. He didn't know it would upset me.”

“Even still.”

“And  _ even still _ , no one should be this cavalier about it.”

Castiel smiled and stroked Dean's cheek. “You really are such a sweet boy. I appreciate your feeling… protective of me. But please, don't be angry or upset on my behalf. Those guys’ names don't even register anymore. And not to sound pretentious, but…” he shrugged, “I'm the one running a multi- million dollar business. I can buy and sell any of those guys ten times over. And I'm the one lying in bed with someone more gorgeous than any one of them could ever hope for.” He paused again and chewed his lip, sighing as he slid his hand down Dean's neck. “I won in the end. The past doesn't matter.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, a small smile finally pulling at his lips. “You think I'm gorgeous?”

Castiel chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Immensely so.”

Dean looked down at Castiel's chest, relaxing in his arms. “So what's the other part?”

“Hm?”

“You said ‘in part’. What's the other reason you started doing this?”

He heard Castiel swallow, his gentle stroking against Dean's back ceasing.

“We should get you in the bath.”

“Cas-”

“Dean.” Castiel's tone was hard, leaving no room for argument. “Bath. Let's go.”

Dean grumbled under his breath as he climbed out of bed, groaning softly when his sore muscles protested. He worked his arms back and forth to work out the tightness from being bound for so long, padding softly to the bathroom with Castiel close behind him. He sighed and hopped up on the counter, swinging his legs as he watched Castiel fill up the jacuzzi. He’s pretty sure Castiel booked this room just for the tub. It had more than enough room for two men, plus jets and all that fancy shit. Castiel also brought along his bottle of oil and salts, soaps and washes, because when it came to taking care of Dean he only used the best. And the best was whatever  _ he _ deemed the best, not whatever a hotel had to offer. Even if it was a luxury hotel.

“How do you feel?” Castiel asked, turning to face Dean as the tub filled up with water set at no doubt the perfect temperature. 

“Sore,” Dean said honestly, twisting his arm slightly. “But nothing hurts. Like I had a good workout.”

“Good,” Castiel added the oil and salts then stood, beckoning Dean forward. He took his hand and helped him into the wonderfully warm water, then settled in behind him. Dean took his usual spot between his legs, leaning back against Castiel’s chest with a soft sigh.

“You know,” he muttered. “You won’t always have a bath nearby to get out of conversations.”

“You’re right,” Castiel nodded, grabbing the loofah. “Sometimes there will be a pool. Or a bed.”

“I dunno why it’s so hard for you to just talk to me,” Dean grumbled, closing his eyes as Castiel moved the loofah over his chest.

“I talk to you all the time,” Castiel said easily.

“You know what I mean.”

Castiel sighed, dragging the loofah down one of Dean’s arms. “As you can imagine, that’s not a part of my life I particularly want to relive. And I’ve finally gotten to the point where it...well, frankly, it doesn’t really  _ feel  _ like a part of my life anymore, because I’m so far removed from it. So I don’t want to dwell on it, and I definitely don’t want you dwelling on it either. What’s happening here, right now, is all I care about. It’s what’s important.”

“But the other part-”

“Some blanks don’t need to be filled in, Dean.”

Dean huffed. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means I’m done talking about this,” Castiel said firmly, lifting Dean’s arm up and wrapping it back around his neck. “Please. It’s enough. I don’t want to have to ask again.”

Dean frowned but pressed his lips together, letting Castiel move him as he needed while he bathed him. The silence would’ve been comfortable if it weren’t for the words unsaid, but even still, Dean didn’t want to push Castiel if he wasn’t prepared to share whatever was bothering him...or  _ had  _ bothered him. And, after considering it further, Dean supposed he really had no right to ask, anyway.

Castiel dried him off painstakingly after his bath, and Dean immediately missed the fluffy bathrobes from his house as he dressed himself in a pair of sweatpants and henley instead. Castiel pulled on a pair of black sweatpants and a grey ribbed sweater with a thick collar and two buttons at the top, and he wordlessly pocketed his cigarettes and lighter, stopping with his hand on the hotel door.

“You’re welcome to join me,” he offered, patting his pocket. “I won’t let you smoke, but…”

Dean silently shook his head, already climbing into bed with the remote to the tv in hand. Castiel watched him for a moment, his expression giving nothing away, before he silently slipped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Dean sighed, scrubbed a hand over his face, and pressed the ‘power’ button. The screen lit up and he aimlessly browsed through the guide before landing on some old school  _ Scooby-Doo _ , because without Netflix there really was nothing to watch.

Dean curled up under the blankets and only half watched, his eyes occasionally wandering around the room. The city was all lit up, even this late. Turned out Castiel was right. There was always someone awake, including him. He glanced at the door every once and awhile, but it remained firmly closed and finally Dean decided to call it quits. He switched off the tv and cut off the lights, staring up at the ceiling with a slight frown.

He really just had to accept that Castiel would never talk to him about anything  _ real _ . Because despite what Dean felt or wanted, this wasn’t a  _ real _ relationship. He had a contract with Castiel, a sexual obligation, and that was all. In fact, outside of this trip, they had never done anything together outside the den. This was the first time they’d done anything that could qualify as a date. While nice, it had been clear it wasn’t exactly Castiel’s forte. Dean was fairly certain he only did it to cheer him up. 

Castiel didn’t want a relationship with Dean. The ‘I love you’’s whispered earlier were purely from Dom to Sub, nothing else. Even though, in the moment, it had certainly felt like  _ something _ to Dean. And he realized with a start that he’d meant every word. He loved Castiel. He hadn’t planned on falling for him, had no intention to, but it had happened anyway.

He dozed off and didn’t realize how much later it was when Castiel returned, but he heard him fumbling with the key before finally getting into the room and shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the heavy door with a sigh and Dean pulled the covers up to his chin, listening intently as Castiel shuffled across the floor and tossed his things on the dresser. He heard the curtains being pulled next, and Castiel sniffed loudly as he began to undress. 

He crawled into bed as quietly as possible, curling up behind Dean and wrapping his arms around him. Dean could smell the whiskey on his breath as he pressed soft kisses to the back of his neck, pulling him close to his warm body. He briefly considered pretending to be asleep, but finally sighed and turned in his arms, laying a hand on his cheek.

“Feel better?”

“‘M fine,” Castiel slurred, shaking his head slightly. He smoothed down Dean’s hair and leaned in to kiss his forehead, but Dean pulled away, sliding out of the bed and padding into the bathroom. He filled a glass of water and brought it back into the bed, handing it to Cas as he made him sit up.

“Drink,” Dean said firmly, frowning and pressing his lips together.

Cas stared at him for a moment before huffing a laugh, then he raised the glass to his lips and sipped slowly. Dean took the glass from him after and sat it on the bedside table, then got comfortable back under the covers, wrapping his arm around Castiel’s middle.

“Said I was fine,” Castiel murmured, finally pressing that kiss to his forehead, rocking his hips against Dean’s front.

“Uh huh,” Dean mumbled, not pushing Castiel away but not encouraging him either, keeping his own hips still. “That’s why you smell like a bar.”

“Just had a few,” Castiel grumbled, trailing kisses down Dean’s face.

“Plus some,” Dean sighed, turning away slightly when Castiel pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “You were gone awhile. Was a little worried…”

“Said I was  _ fine _ ,” Castiel huffed, nibbling down Dean’s neck and rocking his hips again. “Talking too much.”

“Cas…” Dean slid his hands down Castiel’s hips and gripped them gently. “It’s late, okay? We should just sleep. You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning.”

“Mm, don’t wanna sleep.” Castiel pulled Dean closer and sucked at his neck, and if Dean didn’t still feel weird about their earlier conversation- or lack thereof- he’d let Castiel at it. As it was, his emotions were all over the place and he didn’t like the smell of alcohol with every kiss. 

“Yeah, well, I do.” Dean swallowed and pushed gently at Castiel’s chest. “Let’s just sleep it off, okay? I promise you can do whatever you want with me in the morning. You know, after you’re done gagging into the toilet.”

It took some gentle coaxing, but eventually Castiel and his libido settled. He passed out quickly, arms still wrapped around Dean tightly, his face buried in his neck. Dean sighed tiredly and closed his eyes, stroking Castiel’s hair. He fell asleep thinking about what had come over the man and coming to no answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun facts, for your amusement:  
> This story is already complete in Google docs. The entire story is about 195k words- epilogue included. We're also finishing up a time stamp, which is currently at 14k words, projected probably somewhere between 16k and 20k words. 
> 
> Yall have so much more to look forward to! :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing you the happiest of birthdays, steeleye1.
> 
> You may regret asking us for this.

Dean woke again early to the sound of the shower running, and when he rolled over to check the time he found a large Belgian waffle and all the fixings on a plate, with a cup of milk beside it. He smiled and pulled himself up in bed, leaning back against the headboard as he pulled the plate into his lap and added butter and syrup. It was still slightly warm despite sitting there for god knows how long, and Dean hummed as he took the first sweet bite.

The door to the bathroom opened as Dean was finishing his food, and Castiel emerged holding a towel around his waist, his hair wet and sticking up all over his head where he’d toweled it off. 

“Good morning,” he said with a smile as he circled the bed, making his way to his suitcase. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine…” Dean said, eyebrow raised as he took a sip of his milk. “How are  _ you  _ this morning?”

“I’m fine,” Castiel said dismissively, pulling a fresh pair of slacks out of his bag and a crisp white button-up off a hanger. He laid them out on the bed and looked over at Dean, tilting his head. “You’re asking about last night.”

“Yes.”

Castiel huffed a laugh and turned, pulling socks, underwear, and his tie from his bag. “It was nothing, Dean. Lost track of time, got to talking, had one too many. It won’t happen again.” He laid them out on the bed and Dean pointedly avoided anything below the waist as Castiel tossed the towel back into the bathroom and began crawling up the bed, trailing kisses up Dean’s torso. Dean’s hands found their way into his hair and Castiel hummed against his skin as he flattened himself on top of him, then looked up at him innocently.

“One too many, huh?” Dean murmured, raising a brow.

Castiel rolled his eyes and huffed. “Yes, Dean. It happens.”

Dean pressed his lips together and glanced away briefly before he inwardly sighed, letting the subject drop. Yesterday taught him a lot and he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes twice. If Castiel didn’t want to talk to Dean, then Dean wouldn’t ask.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Of course,” Castiel said easily and Dean shivered as his stubble scratched gently at his stomach. Castiel pressed kisses around his belly button, hands sliding up his thighs. “You’ll need to get dressed soon. My meeting is in an hour.”

“Not showing up early this time?” Dean teased, tugging at his damp and wild hair.

Castiel chuckled. “No, not this time. Today should be more interesting for you. A little more hands on.”

“Thought everyday was hands on with you,” Dean snorted, watching Castiel nibble his way down his happy trail. “And I can’t get dressed with you down there.”

“Oh, we have some time…” Castiel smiled into his skin. “And I seem to recall you promising I could do whatever I wanted to this morning.”

“You remembered that, huh?” Dean teased, moaning softly when Castiel pressed a kiss to the head of his cock. 

“You could still change your mind.”

“Well now you have me all excited.”

Castiel chuckled, squeezing Dean’s thighs as he sat back on his calves. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he slid his hands down Dean’s legs, pushing them up until his feet were flat on the bed. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Doubtful.”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow and quirked a smile, shifting off the bed and digging in his suitcase again. “Unfortunately, ‘one hour until meeting’ in New York means I’m running late...which, as you know, is unlike me. However,” he turned, holding something behind his back, with a wicked grin on his face, “having the knowledge that you’re ready for me whenever I wish...now that is foreplay enough all on its own.”

Castiel handed him the bottle of lube and held up a small black silicone plug, giving him a sly smile. 

Dean swallowed. “You...you’re gonna-”

“I might.” Castiel shrugged, placing the plug in Dean’s hand and kissing his forehead before standing again and dressing himself. “I might not. That’s the fun of it, isn’t it? The not knowing, the anticipation? Knowing that any moment you might be bent over a desk, or pressed up against a wall…” he adjusted his collar then began buttoning his shirt from the bottom, only the smallest sliver of his black boxer briefs showing under the white. 

“You really are evil.”

Castiel chuckled as he pulled on his pants and tucked his shirt into them. “No, I just think it’s cute to see you thrown off your game. Not to mention, it’s going to have me hot as hell knowing…” he shook his head hard, then ran a hand over his mouth. “Anyway. Look at it as a challenge, if you like. I’m expecting you to meet a lot of people today, work with them on current projects, get an idea of what we do here and what you could be doing in the future.” He tilted his head. “It’s a lesson, Dean. Don’t be so worried about what  _ could _ happen that you don’t focus on what’s happening in the here and now.”

Dean snorted and uncapped the lube. “Right,” he mumbled to himself. “A  _ lesson _ . More like you’re just evil who gets his jollies off by humiliating me in the middle of an office. I’m gonna be walking around with a hard on all day.”

“Yes, well, that too,” Castiel smiled as he grabbed his tie, slipping it around his neck. “By the way, it vibrates.”

“Of course it does.”

\---

Dean felt like it was obvious with every step he took. Like people could look at him and just  _ know _ that he has a plug up his ass. One that’s currently set to its lowest vibration, because the older, smug, man next to him is a little shit who just couldn’t wait to press the little button on the remote in his pocket.

“Good morning, Cas. Dean,” Yulia waved from her desk, smiling, and Castiel nodded to her. Dean managed a tight smile and was pleased to see Castiel walk right on through the doors. Maybe he was just in a hurry, or maybe he actually cared that his past relationship with her made Dean a little uncomfortable. 

“Walking a little stiff there, boy,” Castiel smirked, glancing at him as they made their way down the hall.

“Shut up,” Dean growled, a blush on his cheeks. 

“Watch that mouth of yours,” Castiel murmured. “Remember, I still have the remote. I can make this a lot  _ harder _ for you.”

Dean grinded his teeth. “Yeah, you’re really fuckin’ hilarious- _ shit _ !” He jumped when the vibration was kicked up a notch and just caught the completely smug smirk on Castiel’s face before it was replaced with a professional, neutral expression.

“Are you going to behave?” Castiel asked without looking at him, toying with the remote in his pocket as he opened the door at the end of the hallway that took them down another, much busier hall.

Dean did his best to compose himself and set his jaw, nodding. The vibration was cut down to the lowest setting again, then completely off a few seconds later, when people began to stop and speak to Castiel and Dean was introduced. They came upon one tall and skinny guy, who didn’t look much older than Dean and had wispy brown hair and a squirrelly face with a nervous demeanor. Castiel introduced him as Garth Fitzgerald, one of the company’s newest interns, who’d only been working there just short of a year.

Garth seemed as equally surprised that Castiel knew who he was as he did, but he shook his hand with a smile nonetheless, then Dean’s after. 

“I’m going to have you shadow Garth while I’m in my meeting, then I’ll join the two of you later. Garth should be able to give you an idea of the things we do here and you can see if it’s something you may be interested in.” Castiel shoved both hands in his pockets and nodded to Garth, then to Dean. “Stay out of trouble, boys.” 

He gave them a smile and a wink as he walked away, and Garth smiled after him, then turned back to Dean. “So you wantin’ in the software business specifically, or…?”

“Dunno yet,” Dean said with a shrug, eyes flitting over to Castiel as he disappeared out of the door at the end of the hall. “I guess that’s what I’m here to find out.”

“No better place to find out,” Garth grinned. “The internship program here is amazing. Mr. Novak set it up himself. We get college credit and it’s a lot more than just fetching coffee for the boss. It’s really hands on here.” 

That perked Dean’s interest and he raised a brow, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? They actually let you work on stuff?”

“Oh yeah!” Garth started leading him further into the hallways, passing offices and important looking people in suits. “I mean, not the  _ really  _ important stuff, but we get to assist with all kinds of things. If you show any promise, you’re usually hired on after about 6 months. Sometimes sooner.” He glanced at Dean and winked. “If Mr. Novak is vouching for you, you’d probably get hired almost immediately.” 

Dean blushed and looked down. “I dunno about all that. He’s only seen some of what I can do. We’re...he’s a busy guy.” 

“Yeah, But he always makes time for the little people,” Garth shrugged. “So I’ve heard anyway. Never met the man in person until today.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, he’s been up here once before since I started, but I’ve never had the opportunity to talk to him. It’s weird, really, the repertoire he still has here at the company, considering he’s no longer an actual...part of it. But he actually cares about what happens to it, and the people here respect that.” Garth held open a door at the end of a hall, then led them into the room immediately to the right, which was full of people, most of whom were closer to their age and dressed more casually. 

They sat in front of desktops and laptops, sporting earphones and small microphones which reminded Dean of the types of headsets boy bands used to wear in the 90s. They were all so engrossed in their work that most didn’t even notice they’d entered, only a few of them giving a half-hearted smile at Garth as he led Dean over to a computer he assumed was his.

“So you’re...what? A senior?” Garth sat down and booted up the computer, answering his own question before Dean had the chance to. “Well, I guess you’d have to be, if you’re here for an internship. Going to school in the fall?”

“Ah, I...I dunno,” Dean shrugged, scratching absently at his cheek. “Never thought I had the option to.”

“Hey, man, neither did I,” Garth shrugged and smiled as he put on his headset. “My family isn’t exactly rollin’ in it, but I got through college on financial aid. Some little scholarships, too. Figured if I got a good enough job, the debt would be worth it.”

Dean hummed and looked down at his feet, feeling kind of like shit. Here Garth was, digging himself into probably 20 years worth of debt to go to school, and Dean was sitting on a check that would give him a free ride and he was still waffling on it. 

“Not easy, though,” Garth went on as he began opening up multiple programs on his screen. “College, I mean. Can’t coast through it like high school. So if you decide to go, you gotta commit.”

Dean snorted to himself. He did nothing but coast through school. He wasn’t even sure if he knew how to buckle down. 

“Is that coding?” Dean asked, leaning in closer.

“Yeah,” Garth grinned proudly. “They’re letting me help with a new budgeting software we’re trying to get up and running. Mostly Mr. Novak’s idea, I think. The company’s been on this outdated system for a while and Mr. Novak finally convinced them to update it. I’m not doing any of the big stuff, of course, just some of the basics. Been awesome. I love detail work like this. Really makes the hours fly.”

Dean nodded and sat down beside him, picking some lint off his jeans as Garth booted up the computer. “So what kinds of things do they have you working on?”

Garth shrugged. “Well, the interns typically start with small projects that don’t really have any bearing on the company, per se. My first project was to program my own soundboard. It’s for the sake of practice, mostly. But after awhile they let you start working on things that you actually see within the company, so that’s been pretty cool. I actually helped code the new layout of the company’s home page on the website.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Garth typed in a password and sat back in his chair as the home page loaded. “And I’ve been here long enough now that they let me pitch ideas, along with some of the other interns and some of the ones who have been here awhile. It’s...kind of nerve-wracking, to be honest.” He chuckled. “You have to sit in this huge conference room with all these suits and the big wigs conference in. If they like your idea, you have to create a presentation for them, and they all fly in for it.”

“Sounds...intense,” Dean said, frowning at the computer.

“Yeah. But everyone’s really supportive. Even if they don’t necessarily like your idea, they’re good about offering up small changes or different directions that may be easier or serve the company as a whole better. I spoke on the phone to Castiel once several months back when I was creating the webpage, and he offered a few pointers as far as aesthetic and ease of application. He has a good eye for things like that.” Garth scratched the back of his head, looking over at Dean. “How’d you get in with Castiel, anyway? You work at the plant down there or something?”

“Uh, no,” Dean licked his lips, keeping his face carefully neutral. “My dad works for him. Apparently they’re old high school buddies or something. When he took over the company, he had this party for the employees, and my dad kind of dragged me and brother to it.”

“Oh, I bet that was…” 

“Boring as hell? Yeah,” Dean snorted and Garth chuckled with a small nod. 

“Cas is okay, though,” Dean shrugged. “He doesn’t really act like your typical big businessman. He’s basically just a tech geek that also happens to be the boss.” 

“He fly you out here?” 

Dean nodded, a knee bouncing up and down. “Yeah, you know, he wanted an assistant or something. And I was on spring break, so the timing was good. I was game. Otherwise I would just be sittin’ at home watching trash on tv.” 

“Yeah, I suppose something like this would be preferable, then,” Garth smiled. “At least give you an idea of what to expect in the future, if you do go to school...or intern here. Or both.” He typed a few things into his computer. “So where you thinkin’ of goin’ to school, anyway?” 

“University of Kansas,” Dean replied, “I think. I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to going somewhere else, but...would be easier to stay close to home. Got a little brother to look after.”

“Oh, yeah? How old’s he?”

“Uh…” Dean chewed his lip, looking past Garth at the computer, “he’s uh...actually about to turn 15.”

Garth snorted. “Well he’ll practically be taking care of himself by now, right?”

Dean huffed a humorless laugh and looked down, tracing the rib of his jeans with a nail. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

Garth was more distracted after that, throwing himself into his coding and stopping every so often to explain to Dean what he was doing. Dean could follow most of it on his own, but it was nice to have it explained anyway, to help him fill in the blanks because of him using a system he’d never seen before. He actually got so drawn into what Garth was doing that he hadn’t realized exactly how much time had passed, and he’d all but forgotten about his little secret until the vibration started again out of nowhere, the surprise almost knocking him out of his seat. He composed himself quickly, chuckling nervously and shaking his head when Garth frowned over at him.

“Just a...cold chill, that’s all,” he muttered dumbly, and he turned to look around the room as Garth turned his attention back to his computer, finding Castiel leaning over one of the other guys at his computer. They were talking and Castiel was pointing at some things on the screen, his other hand in his pocket. Dean wanted to be pissed but just the man’s profile had his heart skipping in his chest, and it took everything in him not to immediately get up and go to him.

“He does have a way of commanding the room, huh?” Garth chuckled as he noticed Dean staring. Dean blinked and rubbed at his face to hide his blush, shrugging a shoulder.

“G-guess so,” he cleared his throat.

“Probably come to fetch you,” Garth sighed, removing his headset and turning to Dean. “It was cool working with you, Dean. You really know your stuff. I know we just met, but if I can be so bold to say you should definitely consider going to school. Or at least interning under Mr. Novak. You could definitely thrive in a place like this.”

Dean was barely paying attention, the vibrations in his ass increasing and making it very difficult not to squirm in his chair. 

“Uh, I-yeah,” he nodded, hand clenching his knee tightly. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. It was, uh, good working with you too.”

“How are we doing, boys?” Castiel’s voice made Dean’s situation about ten times worse, crawling down his spine and making him shiver from head to toe. 

“You found a good one, sir!” Garth smiled brightly, practically giddy to have Castiel’s attention. “Dean’s already ahead of most the interns here. He even helped me fix a few bugs.”

“Mm, good,” Castiel very innocently laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Yes, Dean’s experience and dedication is proving to be more so than I thought.”

Garth didn’t seem to notice Dean’s slight blush.

“Mind if I steal him away?” Castiel asked, giving Garth a smile when he nodded and adjusted his headphones back into place. Dean got to his feet and Castiel guided him back across the room with a hand on his lower back, making a point not to look down at him, his expression more than a little smug.

“Dean, this is Asa. He’s working on the layout for the main page of his website, and we just wanted your opinion...Asa, could you pull those swatches up again?” He leaned over the guy’s chair, who looked to be in his mid twenties, and furrowed his brow at the computer. Dean felt the intensity of the vibrations kick up a notch and he tensed briefly, quickly relaxing one muscle at a time, before anyone could notice.

“Yeah, there we go,” Castiel said, drawing Dean back to the present. “So we were trying to decide and we’re a bit torn...do you think this one, with the yellow undertone? Or is it too much?” He looked over at Dean with an expression that looked like it was carefully put there, raising a brow. “Or maybe perhaps...the red?”

The  _ fucking _ asshole.

Dean looked carefully at the computer as he felt Asa’s eyes on him, looking back and forth between the layouts that Castiel had pointed out. The toy kicked up another notch and he tongued the inside of his cheek hard, frowning, his hold on the back of Asa’s chair tightening.

“I dunno, think maybe...a green might look better,” Dean shrugged, looking pointedly up at Castiel, his jaw clenched, teeth grinding. 

“Do you really?”

“Yes,” Dean responded, perhaps with a little more force than necessary.

Castiel’s eyebrow ticked upwards slightly, his eyes gleaming, the smallest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, but gone just as quick. He nodded once and clapped Asa on the shoulder, then pointed at the screen. 

“Well you heard ‘im, Asa. I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Dean let out a little more of an audible breath than he intended when the toy was turned almost all the way down and Castiel ushered him out of the room, only revealing his smile- a  _ real  _ smile- when the door had closed behind them.

“You  _ ass _ ,” Dean grumbled, though it was hard to be angry when Castiel was looking at him like that. Smiles were hard to get out of the man, which was partly why Dean had been so hurt to see that Yulia can get Castiel to actually  _ laugh _ . So seeing one now, here, and to know it could have only been caused by him was a feeling Dean wanted to hold onto and guard jealously. 

“That was quite fun,” Castiel chuckled, his smile softening but still gracing his features.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Dean scoffed weakly, his own lips quirking in the corners. “You’re like a kid with a new toy.”

“Well, it  _ is _ new,” Castiel said thoughtfully, fingering the remote in his pocket, watching Dean tense as he waited for the impending vibrations. “I got it just for you, sweetheart.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Dean rolled his eyes and swallowed when Castiel stepped forward, effectively backing him up against the wall.

“You don’t like my gift?” Castiel spoke softly, tilting his head down at Dean, those blue eyes pinning him down. 

Dean’s throat went dry and he quickly shook his head. “N-no, no, I love it. I was just…”

“Being a brat?”

Dean offered up a smile and shrugged innocently. “Kinda my thing.”

Castiel chuckled and reached up, cupping Dean’s jaw and lifting his chin. “I do very much enjoy watching you squirm, boy.” There was a soft click and the vibrations were increased. Dean bit back a groan and shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to palm his crotch.

“Really?” he huffed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Castiel eyes flitted down as he traced Dean’s lower lip, licking his own quickly. He took a step back, looking back up at Dean, and Dean relaxed and tried to look as casual as possible when the door at the end of the hall opened and two men in deep conversation walked by them, only barely sparing them a glance and giving Castiel a nod. He pressed his lips together in an obligatory smile and gave them a nod back, shoving both hands in his pockets. When they disappeared around the corner Castiel inclined his head the opposite direction, and Dean followed him down the hall.

“So your time with Garth was educational?”

“Yeah,” Dean said simply, trying hard not to think about the vibrations. Castiel cut his eyes over at him and laughed again, clicking the remote in his pocket to cut the toy off completely. Dean let his breath out in a huff, giving himself a minute to catch his breath. “He said he’d been here a year?”

“Just about,” Castiel said, smiling briefly at a tall blonde in a knee-length pencil skirt as she passed by them. “I actually looked over his transcripts myself when he was hired. Between you and me, I’ve heard whispers today that they’ll be officially bringing him on in the next couple of months.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmm. He’s shown a lot of promise. They’re excited about the ideas he has.”

Dean frowned and looked around at the offices they passed, chewing his lip. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but uh...isn’t it kinda weird for you to still be so involved in your...I dunno,  _ ex _ job?”

Castiel shrugged and tilted his head to the side. “Maybe.” He chuckled. “I suppose most wouldn’t care so much. But this company meant a lot to me while I was here, and I learned many new things because of it. It also gave me the opportunity to be where I am now. So what I’m doing here, it’s not necessary, but...I enjoy keeping busy. I enjoy offering my ideas. And I don’t believe in burning bridges. I view it as an honor that they would ask for my help.”

Dean thought silently to himself that maybe Castiel just enjoyed being needed, not so much being busy. Maybe he only felt content if he was being useful to others. Dean didn’t voice his opinions, though. He really didn’t Castiel all that well and likely never would, and the man probably wouldn’t appreciate a psychological analysis by some kid. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of a vacation?” Dean snorted, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shuffling closer to Castiel every time they walked past someone. 

“Of course,” Castiel shrugged. “I take one about once a year. Long weekend or something.”

“That’s it?!” Dean sputtered, then blushing and lowering his voice when a woman walked by giving him a stern look. “Cas, that’s- that’s- I dunno what that is. But it’s not a vacation. And you need a break more than once a year. You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

“I haven’t yet,” Castiel shrugged again.

“Cas, humans aren’t meant to just...work all the time,” Dean huffed, pausing and forcing Castiel to stop as well. “I get that you love your job, but c’mon. Don’t you have hobbies? Things you want to do that aren’t work?”

Castiel tilted his head and smirked briefly. “I have  _ you _ .”

Dean blinked and blushed heavily, looking down at his feet. “That’s  _ not _ what I meant. Besides torturing me in your little dungeon, isn’t there...I dunno. Places you wanna go? Things you want to experience? It’s okay to do things for yourself sometimes.”

Castiel smiled and started walking again, moving Dean along with a hand on his back. “I travel often for work.”

“Still work,” Dean mumbled, shaking his head. “I mean, do you ever travel anywhere or do anything where you don’t have immediate communication with work? Unplugged, if you will?”

Castiel frowned. “You know, I really wish you wouldn’t refer to what we do as  _ torture,  _ and dungeon? I thought the room was nice.”

Dean scoffed and bumped him with his shoulder. “Don’t change the subject.”

Castiel chuckled softly as they turned the corner, suddenly pulling Dean by his arm into the empty room to the immediate left. He closed the door behind them and pressed Dean up against it, his hands finding the warm skin of his waist and lips finding his pulse point.

Dean shivered and held his breath as he heard a couple of people walking by outside the door, and he grabbed Castiel’s hips briefly before remembering himself and half-heartedly pushing back against him. Castiel’s teeth grazed his jaw and he gripped his chin, then slid long fingers down the front of his throat, tugging at his collar.

“N-now you’re just...intentionally trying to d-distract me,” Dean stammered, moaning softly when the toy clicked on again and Castiel hummed against his skin.

“You’ve been ready for me all day, haven’t you baby?” Castiel asked softly, stroking Dean’s hair as he pulled back to look at him. 

Dean swallowed and nodded, his eyes firmly on Castiel’s dark ones. “Yes, daddy.”

Castiel hummed again and watched his hand trail down Dean’s front, palming his steadily hardening cock. “Would it be absolutely terrible of me to make you wait until we got back to the hotel?”

“Yes,” Dean spat, glaring at him with all the malice he could muster as the man traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.

Castiel chuckled, brilliantly white and straight teeth just barely poking out from behind too-pink lips. “But I have such a good scene in mind…”

Dean was already leaking, and he grimaced when he felt the wetness against the front of his boxers as he shifted under Castiel’s touch. “Will I...like it?”

“I think you will enjoy it very much,” Castiel said definitively, thumbing Dean’s bottom lip. 

“Does it involve you  _ actually _ fucking me?”

Castiel quirked a smile. “Eventually, yes.”

Dean whimpered- actually  _ whimpered _ \- and thunked the back of his head against the door. He had a horrible choice to make and they both knew he was going to pick the hotel, despite how bad he ached  _ now _ and how much he wanted Castiel to fuck him against the door. 

“Fine,” he whined, defeated. “I’ll wait for the damn hotel.” 

“Ah, I knew you were intelligent,” Castiel chuckled, squeezing Dean’s cock one more time before he pulled away. 

“I hate you.” 

“I love you too, my sweet boy.” 

—-

Castiel was merciless the rest of the day, the toy fluctuating between low and high settings, effectively making Dean squirm and blush with a semi in his jeans that was slowly leaking through his clothes. Luckily Castiel was paying attention because by the time Dean was beginning to think he should have brought some spare boxers Castiel announced them done for the day. 

Dean practically ripped his clothes off when they got back to the hotel, almost reaching to palm himself before remembering Castiel hadn’t given him permission to do so. He let his hand fall limply at his side and he whined, squirming, the toy kicked up to its highest setting. 

“D-Daddy,  _ please _ ,” he begged. “Let me-“ 

“No,” Castiel said firmly, sitting on the foot of the bed and gesturing Dean over. “Come take my shoes off. My belt, too.” 

Castiel watched him intensely as he leaned back, resting both hands on the bed, the remote firmly grasped in one. Dean unbuckled his belt first, hands shaking as he pulled it through the loops and handed it to Castiel. He dropped to his knees, ignoring his own cock bobbing between his legs, and untied Castiel’s shoelaces, slipping the shoes off and sitting them neatly off to the side.

Dean whimpered as Castiel gently stroked his flushed cock, thumbing the wet slit. “Look at you, just ready to burst, aren’t you baby?”

Castiel quirked a smile and pulled him into his lap, positioning him so that his cock hung freely between Castiel’s thighs instead of being pressed painfully up against his stomach. He turned the toy down to a dull buzz and Dean let out the breath he’d been holding, already panting lightly as Castiel trailed his fingertips along his skin.

“How many?” Dean asked softly, clutching the comforter.

Castiel hummed, splaying fingers across one of Dean’s ass cheeks and squeezing, pulling, exposing his hole briefly. 

“No particular amount, I don’t think,” Castiel said finally. “I think we’ll know when you’re done. Or you’ll tell me. Isn’t that right?”

Dean turned his head to the side to look back at Castiel, pressing his cheek to the bed. “Yes, daddy.” He rolled his hips slightly, seeking friction he knew he wouldn’t get, and Castiel chuckled darkly. 

“Eager?”

“Yes,” Dean answered honestly, clutching and releasing the sheets. He rolled his hips again, knowing it was futile but unable to help himself. 

“I did not expect you to like this so much,” Castiel confessed, grabbing a globe and squeezing the soft flesh with a sigh. “I had planned to only use it as punishment, but it seems the mere thought of disappointing me is punishment enough for you.” 

Dean nodded. There was no arguing with that. The few times he’s disappointed Castiel- or though he had, anyway- had torn him up in ways that were downright terrifying. The power Castiel had over him was immense and not something Dean let himself think about too much. 

“Do you want me to count, daddy?” He asked, rubbing his cheek against the comforter. 

“Not this time,” Castiel said softly. “We’re just going to enjoy it.” 

Dean was not prepared for the hard slap that echoed seconds later and gasped, body jerking with pain and pleasure. He groaned and rocked his hips, sticking his ass in the air in silent plea for more. 

Castiel’s hand came down again, and again, and again, sporadically, making it impossible to anticipate the exact moment or which cheek he would slap. Five or six in Dean’s ass was stinging and his cock was throbbing, his fingers cramping from gripping the comforter. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as the sensation combined with the gentle vibrations set all his nerve endings on fire. He could hear Castiel whispering praises every so often, but they sounded far away, almost like drifting off to sleep at night while the television plays in the background. Eventually Castiel’s free hand found its way into Dean’s hair and stroked, massaged his scalp. He paused once to pull Dean up towards him, holding his face in his hand to tilt his head back and kiss his forehead. But it was followed quickly with another loud slap across his backside, then another, and Dean had lost all track of how many it was when he finally felt himself come. 

He groaned loudly and rolled his hips, seeking the smallest bit of friction from Castiel’s thighs as he spilled between them. Castiel rubbed his palm over Dean’s sore backside and carded fingers through his hair as he let Dean ride it out, soft praises tumbling openly from his lips.

“I’m sorry daddy,” Dean rasped, panting, lolling his head to the side to look back at Castiel. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Hush, sweet boy,” Castiel assured him, shaking his head. “You could never disappoint me. I hope you know that.” He stroked down his cheek gently, his eyes soft. “You have done  _ exactly  _ what I wanted you to.” His eyes trailed down the length of Dean’s body and he brushed his fingers lightly across his shoulders. “How do you feel? Can you move, come up here to me?”

Dean slowly unclenched his fingers from the sheets and tested his tense muscles, stretching and bending, wincing slightly at the ache. He was eventually able to pull himself up to his knees with Castiel’s help, and Castiel practically took over from there, placing Dean’s arms around his neck and pulling one of his legs over his lap. Dean straddled him, eyelids heavy, cock hanging spent between them.

“Beautiful,” Cas whispered, cupping Dean’s face in his hands, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re beautiful, my sweet boy.”

Dean smiled dazedly, blinking slowly as he leaned into Castiel’s touch. He licked his lips, desperately wanting to kiss the older man and stopping himself just in time, pressing his lips to Castiel’s cheek instead. He tried not to dwell on the fact that Castiel still tensed slightly. 

“I...I did good, daddy?” he asked breathlessly, sagging when Castiel wrapped his arms around him tightly.

“Yes, baby, you did so good for me,” Castiel murmured, sighing as Dean nuzzled his neck and leaned heavily against him.  “Perfect.”

Dean shifted on Castiel’s lap and shivered weakly as he brushed up against his still hard cock. “Gonna fuck me now, daddy?” he said, reaching down between them to palm the bulge. 

Castiel twitched and licked his lips, a hand sliding down Dean’s back to his red ass, finger slipping inside the crack and circling his rim. “You  _ are _ nice and stretched for me,” he murmured, gently removing the plug and setting it aside. Dean grunted and his hole clenched at the sudden emptiness. “You’ve been ready for me all day, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Dean groaned, shuddering as a finger slipped easily inside. “Please, daddy. Love it when you fuck me...need you inside…”

Castiel smiled and pulled Dean forward to kiss his forehead, then held him tightly to his body as he stood and deposited him on the bed. Dean stretched his sore limbs as he watched Castiel retrieve the lube and a condom and tear the package open with his teeth. He loosened his tie and tossed it to the side, pulled his shirt over his head, and stepped out of his pants. 

Dean allowed himself a couple moments of silent appreciation of Castiel’s body as the man rolled the condom on, looking back up at his eyes as he stepped forward. He pressed his hands to the inside of Dean’s thighs, spreading his legs, and pulled him toward him, until his ass nearly hung off the end of the bed. Castiel slicked his fingers with more lube and Dean sucked in a breath as he pressed them to his hole and spread it gently over the puckered muscle.

Castiel lined himself up and barely popped the head of his cock past Dean’s rim, giving him a moment to adjust before grabbing his thighs and sheathing himself the rest of the way. Dean arched and panted, grabbing the sheets around him.

Castiel paused and groaned, letting his head fall back and flexing his hands on Dean’s thighs. “Been waiting all day for this, sweet boy,” he said softly, looking back down at him and tonguing his bottom lip, “you always feel even better than I remembered.”

Dean opened his mouth to say the same about Castiel, but all that came out was needy moan and a roll of his hips. Castiel must have liked the response if his dark chuckle and his cock twitching inside him was any indication. He snapped his hips and Dean choked, pulling at the sheets as his body was rocked. He was suddenly reminded of the party, stumbling upon Castiel and the receptionist fucking in a very similar fashion, and his cock twitched at the memory. He’d had countless dreams of Castiel fucking him like that, had woken to sticky sheets and flushed face each time. And a strange sense of jealousy, knowing he’d never have Castiel that way. 

Dean blinked and licked his lips, gripping the sheets with renewed vigor and pushing up on his forearms. He growled and rolled his hips, hard, impaling himself on Castiel’s cock and feeling a sense of pride when the man gasped. Dean would make sure Castiel forgot all about her.

“Boy-”

“ _ Fuck me _ ,” Dean demanded, arching his back, staring up at Castiel’s slightly wide and surprised eyes. 

Castiel blinked then set his jaw, his throat rumbling as he dug his nails into Dean’s thighs and snapped his hips, hard, causing Dean to jerk and groan loudly. He let out a choked sound when Castiel kept up the hard pace, and he could feel his backside bruising but didn’t care. He’d wear them proudly, relish in his sore backside and the claim, the hold that Castiel had over him at all times. 

He yelped when Castiel angled himself in such a way that the next thrust hit his prostate, causing stars to explode behind his eyes and his toes to curl. He moaned and rocked with each sharp thrust, his eyes rolling back, pulling at the sheets. Castiel’s fingers were pressed tightly into the meat of Dean’s thighs, a little painfully, although it wasn’t as if Dean wanted him to loosen his hold at all. Sweat had started to bead on the man’s forehead and glisten on his chest and his jaw was clenched tightly, determination in his eyes.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, boy?” he ground out, reaching up to grip Dean’s chin tightly, but even through the facade Dean could see him beginning to lose himself. 

Dean nodded and whimpered, wrapping his fingers around Castiel’s wrist as he looked up at him. “Y-yes, daddy.”

Castiel stared at him for a long moment before finally pulling his hand away, letting both hands then explore Dean’s torso, his gaze falling to follow his touch. Without warning he pulled Dean up into his arms and Dean only had a moment to miss his girth as he slipped out before he was thrust up against the wall and Castiel buried himself inside again. His legs were thrown awkwardly over Castiel’s arms as the man held him at the perfect angle to drive into him. Castiel’s head was down, forehead pressed to Dean’s shoulder as he panted against his skin. Dean’s arms held tightly to his shoulders, and when Castiel did finally look up at him again Dean laid his hand on the side of his neck, then slid it up to cup his cheek, his eyes heavily lidded and mouth hanging open.

What happened in reality was quick, possibly only a half second of a decision that Dean saw clearer than anything he ever had before; the scanning of blue eyes over his green ones, the slightest uptick of an eyebrow, the softening of features, the smallest tilt of the head. All this leading up to the moment that Castiel finally closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Dean’s, hips stilling, pressing their bodies flush as one of his hands came up to hold where Dean’s neck met his jaw. The gravity of it melted from something fierce and desperate to soft and earnest, and Dean would’ve sobbed if he wasn’t so enamored with the way Castiel kissed him, like a dying man taking his last breath.

He returned the kiss with fervor, his own technique perhaps a little sloppy from his eagerness, but Castiel didn’t seem to mind. The hand on his throat was burning hot, the tongue meeting his and the slightly chapped lips brushing his own so incredible and surreal it had his mind reeling. It felt like the kiss went on and on, though it was probably only seconds before Castiel abruptly pulled away and buried his face in Dean’s neck. He panted onto Dean’s sweaty skin, his hips stuttering back to movement and crashing into Dean with force, hard and desperate. 

Dean dragged in each breath, clinging to Castiel’s shoulders and wincing as every thrust slammed him into the wall. It was brutal, wonderful, and Deal felt it down to his core. He closed his eyes, reveling in the tingling on his lips from the best damn kiss of his life and the soreness from bruises forming on his back and thighs. Dean jerked and hissed as Castiel bit down on his shoulder, coming with a choked grunt, his hips faltering before finally coming to a slow stop.

Castiel unclenched his teeth after seemingly realizing what he was doing, pressing a kiss to the abused spot in a silent apology. Dean hardly cared, the sting pleasant and just another mark he’d wear proudly, despite it probably technically breaking another rule in their contract. A rule Dean himself wrote. 

Castiel slipped out and Dean grunted with a grimace, his limbs feeling like jello as the man shifted them back to the bed. Castiel collapsed beside him, his strength spent and his face flushed as he fought to breathe.

Dean chuckled softly as he caught his own breath, tapping Castiel with the back of his hand. “Wow. That was… amazing.”

Castiel rubbed absently at his chest as he stared up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand down his face, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Dean frowned and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at him.

“What?”

Castiel sighed as he looked over. “I'm sorry.”

Dean's frown deepened and he paused, then: “For what?”

“That was...a mistake. The kiss, I mean,” he added quickly, licking his lips. “I shouldn't have… you signed a contract, and you're supposed to be able to expect certain things from me, and I just keep... _ keep  _ breaking them-”

“Hey, the kissing thing is one of your rules, not mine,” Dean pointed out, “and anyway, I didn't...I didn't mind. I-”

“It's one of my rules for a reason, Dean,” Castiel said softly, shaking his head. “It shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have let it happen.”

Dean found it hard to swallow and looked down at the comforter between them, picking at the material and blinking rapidly, feeling his heart thump painfully.  _ Sorry _ . Castiel was sorry it happened. Regretted it. And maybe Dean had imagined the emotion behind the kiss, had hoped so much that Castiel did actually feel something for him other than lust and fondness; that the kiss had felt like something more than it actually was. Just a heat of the moment thing and nothing more.

Dean cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his eyes, feigning tiredness as he tried to hide the watering under his eyelids. Fuck, he had to quit letting this man slice him open. There was only so much he could take.

“It’s fine, Cas,” he said a bit roughly, hoping Castiel wouldn’t notice. “It’s...whatever. Forgotten. Mistakes happen.”

“Dean, I...I hope you understand-”

“Yeah, I get it,” Dean huffed and flopped over onto his back, the previous euphoria he’d felt all but gone and replaced by something cold and bitter in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly itched for a shower, anything to scrub away the  _ used _ feeling that was currently crawling all over his skin. 

“I said it was fine,” he continued, pulling himself up and wincing as his muscles protested the movement. “I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

Castiel frowned deeply and sat up, watching Dean carefully. “Dean, I would prefer we partake in your aftercare.”

“Well,  _ I _ would prefer to take a shower,” Dean grumbled, getting to his feet.

“Dean, sub drop is not something you want to risk,” Castiel said worriedly, fingers twitching. “I’m concerned- with the manner in which I took you- you might-”

“Are you gonna order me or not?” Dean paused at the bathroom door.

Castiel looked hurt for a moment before the look was quickly wiped away. “I...I’m not here to  _ order _ you around, Dean.”

“Shower it is, then,” Dean murmured, slipping inside the bathroom and closing the door firmly. He leaned back against it, squeezing his eyes shut as his head fell back with a  _ thunk _ . A few hot tears slid down his cheeks and he sniffed loudly and cleared his throat before pushing himself away from the door, only making it a few feet when tears blurred his vision. He collapsed on the edge of the jacuzzi, rubbing angrily at his eyes, and stifled a sob.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have oneeee more short chapter.
> 
> Also, random updates:
> 
> Immediately posting after (or perhaps toward the end) of this fic, we'll be posting our newest, Honey-Baked. This one we just did for fun on a whim, includes friends to lovers, idiots in love, sex positive Cas, high-functioning autistic Cas (this is not used as a plot point or anything, just small mentions throughout), smutty and fluffy, happy ending. No real plot other than the two friends falling in love with one another and being too afraid to tell the other one. 
> 
> Then, for those who read and are fans of Profess Unto Me, which we posted last year, we'll be starting to post the sequel, which is unnamed at this point in time. That one will be exploring Dean and Cas's relationship following closely after- within a few months- the events at the end of Profess. 
> 
> And lastly, we've also made the decision to participate in the DCBB this year! Posting for that one starts in October. We already have an idea for our story, so we'll post in the notes of whatever we're posting at the time when we actually start writing, so you guys can help us through that one as well. Your support means everything. 
> 
> Thank you all so much!

It wasn't the fact that it happened that made Dean angry. It wasn't that a rule was broken, or that Dean felt betrayed by it, or uncomfortable with it. It was that it had felt so right, so real, and Castiel dashed all hope of that possibility with just a few words. Castiel didn't  _ want _ him, not in the same way, didn't love him in the way Dean had grown to, and the bluntness of the rejection hit Dean with what felt like a physical force, stamping out any hopefulness he had for something  _ more _ with the man. Maybe Dean was juvenile and naive, but he'd truly been fooled by what he'd come to believe was reality. 

He let out a harsh breath and stood, sniffing again as he started the shower. A soft knock came at the door that he pointedly ignored, instead stepping into the warm spray. If Castiel knocked again, Dean didn’t hear it, or chose not to. He wasn’t sure himself. He tilted his head back and let the water run over him, splashing onto his face and trickling down his neck. Dean stood like that for a long while before he finally shook himself and grabbed some body wash, soaping up the loofah then scrubbing himself from head to toe. His back, shoulders, and ass hurt. He’d have bruises in the morning and would be walking a little stiff. Luckily they were leaving tomorrow, so he wouldn’t have to fake it anymore. 

Dean scrubbed his hair next and lingered for a bit, staring blankly at the tiled wall and refusing to cry even as the tears burned behind his eyes. It was his own damn fault anyway. Getting mixed up in something like this and expecting not to get attached. He was never much a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kind of guy. Even with Lisa they had shared some common ground, a mutual agreement, and were good friends who had occasionally rolled around in bed. Dean had accepted a long time ago he was an emotional man. He liked chick flicks, stupid love songs, and valued close relationships- whether it be friend or otherwise. One night stands left him feeling sick. Something as intimate and personal as sex required some sort of emotional attachment for him. Not necessarily love, but something other than five minutes of chit-chat with a perfect stranger.

Castiel would probably say it had something to do with his daddy issues. He didn’t get enough love as a kid so now he clings to whoever he can get until they finally peel him off and toss him away. And he’d done the same with Castiel… grown attached and mistaken all the attention Castiel lavished on him as real love, not something as two-dimensional as a simple love between a Dom and his Sub.

Dean had been foolish enough to believe a man such as Castiel would be serious about a kid. It was his own fault he was hurting now. Castiel had been up front and clear from the beginning. None of this ache was on him; not really.

Dean scrubbed at his face and shut off the water, pulling back the curtain-

“Shit,” he hissed, jumping slightly when he found Castiel leaning patiently against the counter with bottles of body oil and lotion in his hands. Dean stood there stupidly, blinking, dripping wet. He frowned and opened his mouth.

“Wha-”

Castiel held up the bottles and bit his lip, looking more vulnerable and unsure than Dean had ever seen him before. “Please?” he asked softly. “Please allow me to do  _ something _ , Dean.”

Dean frowned and yanked his towel off its hook, wrapping it around his waist. 

“Said I was fine,” he mumbled again, avoiding too-blue eyes. “You don't need to do anything to ease your guilt.”

“I want to do this because I  _ care _ , Dean,” Castiel said firmly, sitting the bottles on the counter. “Despite what you may believe, I care about you, and-”

“The way you cared about Yulia? And the ones before her? Yeah, I get it. You care in the way you're  _ required _ to-” 

“Don't presume to know anything about me,” Castiel snapped, and Dean's eyes widened marginally at the unexpected force behind his words. “You don't know how I feel. You don't know my motivations for anything. You don't know  _ me.” _

“And that's the problem, isn't it?!” Dean spat back, ignoring the chill of the room against his damp skin. “I  _ don't _ know you. Because you won't _ allow _ me to know you.  _ Jesus _ , Cas, I just want to help you, and you-”

“Your job is not to help me,” Castiel said bluntly, taking a step forward. “That's not how this works.  _ I  _ help _ you _ , and that gives me what I need. And on that front, I've been nothing but forthcoming with you. I don't know what you think you know about me, and I don't know why you seem so keen on the idea that I need saving, but the caregiving is  _ my _ job, and I...I  _ need _ that. I-” he paused and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Will you please...Dean, please. Just let me do something.”

Dean stood there, his skin breaking out in goosebumps, feeling utterly ridiculous having this conversation while he was naked even while knowing that should be the least of his worries. He looked away from Castiel, his eyes too much and his words slicing deeper than Castiel probably realized. Dean finally stepped out of the tub, running a towel through his hair and quickly over his drying skin.

“Fine,” he murmured quietly, still avoiding Castiel’s gaze as he breezed past him and into the room. He removed the towel around his waist and silently stretched out on the bed, laying on his stomach and slipping his arms under the pillow cushioning his head. He heard Castiel sigh softly, felt the bed dip under his weight, the cap to one of the bottles popping open. Seconds later a slick hand was massaging his back and the smell of lavender wafted through the air as Castiel worked the oil into his skin.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel spoke quietly, unsure. “I truly don’t know what I’ve done to upset you so much this weekend...it seems every step I took was the wrong one.” He paused and sighed again. “This was meant to be fun for you.”

Dean blushed when Castiel’s hands slid over his backside and massaged oil into the the sore spots, his traitorous cock giving a vague twitch. “‘S on me. Dunno what I was expectin’, anyway.”

Castiel’s hands stopped briefly and Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Castiel press his lips to his lower back, trailing them up to his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” His voice came from close to his ear, breath hot on his skin. “I occupied far too much of your time here. I was selfish with you. It was supposed to be a fun, it was supposed to be a learning experience.”

“I did learn.”

“Seems to me all you did was teach.” 

“Garth was just being nice. He was sucking up to you. Everyone was.”

There was another long pause while Castiel massaged more oil into his sore joints. He gently turned Dean over when it was done, slotting a leg between Dean’s and bumping their foreheads together. “I feel...I feel I owe you an explanation.”

Dean looked up at him. “For what?”

Castiel sighed and rolled to his side, pulling Dean with him. He smoothed down his hair and splayed his fingers across the side of his neck. “My rules. Or...that specific one, anyway.”

“Cas, you don’t need-”

“No, I do,” he nodded, giving Dean a small, brief smile. “I do.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, stroking his thumb over Dean’s cheek. “You remember, those months ago, when we discussed my personal rules? I prohibited kissing, sleeping in my bedroom…”

“Yeah.”

Castiel chewed his lip. “Because they’re too intimate.”

“Right...and I get that, that this is just...what it is. I know. You’ve made that abundantly clear. You always have. I just...forgot, I guess.”

Castiel had closed his eyes about halfway through, his forehead wrinkling before he opened them again. “Those are...new rules. New rules since my last Sub.”

Dean furrowed his brow and frowned. “Your last- since Yulia, right?”

“Yes.”

Dean blinked and paused, then pulled away slightly to look Castiel in the eye. “Why would you need to create those rules?”

Castiel looked away briefly and Dean could practically see the man building himself up, gathering strength to speak about something he clearly didn’t want to talk about.

“Yulia was my sub for many years, as you know,” Castiel finally murmured. “My relationship with her was far more intimate than mine is with you...because I allowed it to be. We kissed, she slept in my bed, we-”

“I don’t really need the details,” Dean muttered darkly. 

Castiel pressed his lips together and nodded. “Yes, well, it was mistake on my part. I grew close with her. Developed...feelings.”

Dean blinked in realization, his heart pounding painfully. “You loved her.”

Castiel nodded once and took a deep breath. “Yes. And I believed those feelings were mutual. I was very wrong. After our years together, she told me she didn’t need this anymore. Being my Sub, I mean. She had no more use for the lifestyle, or me. She wanted to meet someone. I terminated our contract and she left to live a normal life.”

Dean's throat tightened and he swallowed hard. “Did she...know?”

“I never… never told her, you know? I tricked myself into believing that she felt the same thing I did, that she was feeling…” he frowned, “I thought it was mutual. I didn't think it needed to be said because I thought we were on the same page. But Yulia… she's an intelligent woman. I think she knew. She apologized, for… all of it. But it was my fault, really. It was never part of the deal.”

Dean watched his face, but Castiel wasn't looking at him. The situation was painfully familiar, and he wondered if Castiel knew the depth of his feelings for him. 

“Do you… still…?”

Castiel licked his lips and frowned again. “To be honest, when we came here, I wasn't sure. And I honestly didn't know that she would be here. But… seeing her again? I didn't feel what I thought I would. It's different now.  _ We're  _ different now.” He nodded absently, and finally Dean reached up to lay his hand on Castiel's cheek, drawing his gaze back to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean sighed, not knowing what else to say. 

“Oh?” Castiel murmured. 

“Yeah,” Dean swallowed and looked down between them at the wrinkled sheets. “Sorry you went through that. Sorry for how she treated you, which I’m still pissed about. And I’m sorry for making you bring it up.”

“You were owed an explanation,” Castiel said simply with a small shrug. “You have a right to know why I have certain rules, why I do things the way I do...if you’re going to trust me, I need to be open enough at least for that.”

Dean grunted noncommittally.

“And I…” Castiel continued slowly, “...feel as if I’ve failed in earning your trust. Perhaps you are more complicated than I thought, or I’m just not as good as I believed I was, but I seem to make you upset more than I make you happy.”

“That’s not true,” Dean argued, eyes snapping up. “I’m just...new to this, is all. You’re right. You were very clear at the beginning. I’m just...a mess of daddy issues, right?” He offered a weak smile. “Clingy. Desperate for attention. I’m one step away from becoming a stripper. None of it is your fault. I just overthink things…”

“Dean-”

Dean waved a hand and shook his head. “I get it. Shouldn't be so sensitive.”

“Stop,” Castiel grabbed his hand and held it to his chest. “I wish you wouldn't think so little of yourself. You're not ‘just’ anything. Your issues don't define you. We all have issues.” He huffed a laugh. “ _ I _ have issues, Dean. You're not clingy, or desperate. I've just...I misjudged you. This is on me. I need to figure out what you need and facilitate it. I'm… I'm not _ helping _ you, Dean, not the way I should, and it's killing me.”

“What if you can't?” Dean asked softly. “What then?”

“I will,” Castiel said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Just… don't give up on me yet, okay?” He reached up to run a hand through Dean's hair, pulling him in to kiss his forehead. 

“Wish I could,” Dean huffed. “Trust me, I'm… I'm not going anywhere.” He relaxed in Castiel's arms, burying his face in his neck and inhaling deeply. “I think she did love you, though. Maybe not in the exact way you loved her, but… something more. Maybe she just had trouble imagining overlap between regular intimacy and… this. The way she looked at you? I dunno. It was different than a look I would expect for someone to give another that had no significant impact on them.”

Castiel hummed. “Doesn't matter now. She's moved on and so have I.”

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

Dean set his jaw. “Cas, it’s not fair. Not fair that you got hurt once and now you...now you have to abide by all these  _ rules  _ to keep it from happening again and it’s not fair to you to keep yourself from being happy because of one person one time not feeling the same way you do-”

“Hey,” Castiel said softly, stroking his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I have you, the way we are now, and that’s all I need to be happy.”

Dean lowered his gaze, his heart screaming at him that maybe that wasn’t enough for  _ him _ , but Dean clamped it down and held his tongue. He was young, after all. He didn’t know what it felt like to be in love. Maybe all he was feeling for Castiel was just a strong attachment. It made perfect sense. Castiel was the first to really listen to Dean, to offer up a place for Dean to be himself, a non-judgemental space to fulfill his desires and needs all while lavishing the attention Dean craved so much. It would have been odd for him  _ not _ to grow attached. 

Dean huffed to himself. He wasn’t going to ruin what he had by wishing for something more. That contract was all he really had to keep Castiel to himself and he didn’t want to give the man anymore reason to terminate it. 

“I...make you happy?” Dean asked quietly, looking back up and biting his lip.

Castiel clicked his tongue and thumbed his bottom lip. “Yes, sweet boy. Despite the misunderstandings we seem to face, I’m very happy with you. You have no idea how fulfilling it is, taking care of you. I know my needs seem strange to you and you don’t understand them, but I...I  _ do _ need this. And you meet my needs, my...desires, more than any Sub I’ve had before. I feel that you should know that.”

Dean smiled and looked down again, until Castiel tilted his head back up by his chin.

“And for the record, though highly unprofessional and inappropriate of me, it was...a  _ very  _ good kiss.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Dean chuckled as he rolled to his back, laying a hand over his stomach. “Yeah, well. There’s a lot more where that came from, big guy.”

Castiel scoffed. “I can think of something else that smart mouth can be doing that doesn’t require an inflated ego.” He rolled to his side and pinned Dean’s arms above his head as he covered his body with his own and nipped playfully at his neck. “Especially considering...well. You’re much too sore for me right now, aren’t you?”

“No, daddy,” Dean lied, shaking his head. His breath caught in his throat with Castiel pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. 

“Mmm. No no, we mustn’t push you too far too fast. I unfortunately must let you rest. And I won’t budge on that, so don’t ask.” He chuckled as he rolled to his back again, then grunted in surprise when Dean straddled his stomach, laying his hands on his chest and smirking down at him.

“You’re sadistic.”

“I don’t ever recall claiming not to be.”

“It’s still mean to tease,” Dean pouted slightly, tracing a circle around Castiel’s nipple. It had a freckle just above it and Dean always thought this little detail was adorable. 

“Says the one who teases me every day,” Castiel scoffed, settling his large hands on Dean’s waist. 

“I do not,” Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t even _ see _ you every day.”

“You don’t have to be around to tease me,” Castiel shrugged, rubbing his thumbs over Dean’s hip bones. “You do plenty in my own imagination.”

“Okay, well, that’s hardly my fault,” Dean raised a brow. “I can’t control what you’re thinkin’ about.” He paused and smirked. “You think about me at work?”

Castiel pressed his lips together and shrugged innocently. “Perhaps.” He tilted his head and returned Dean’s smirk. “Do you think about me at school?”

“Maybe.” 

Castiel raised a brow.

“Okay, all the time. It’s actually very distracting. You’re a bad influence. You know how hard it is to hide a boner at school?”

“Yes,” Castiel chuckled. “I might be old, but I did go to school, if you recall. I had my fair share of awkward... _ boners _ .”

“Oh, my God,” Dean shook his head and clasped a hand over Castiel’s mouth. “Don’t ever say that word again. You just, it doesn’t sound right coming from you. It’s like a parent saying orgy or something.”

He could tell Castiel was grinning because of the crinkles around his eyes, and he cocked a brow. 

“So orgies bother you, or just the word?” Castiel’s voice was muffled behind his hand, and Dean’s mouth fell open.

“You’ve had-”

“Only once,” Castiel insisted, pulling Dean’s hand away and kissing it. He shrugged. “Not my thing.”

“Okay, well, both the word and the thing are off limits,” Dean muttered, playfully snatching his hand away.

“Noted.”

Dean chewed his lip, frowning down at Castiel. “Really, Cas? An orgy?”

Castiel smirked and shrugged again. “It was a long time ago. And I dunno...there’s just something really erotic about watching your partner with someone else.” He looked up at Dean and frowned. “Don’t judge. What we’re doing now isn’t exactly what one might call ‘conventional’.”

“Well, no, but-”

“And in fact, if your father knew the things we did behind closed doors…” Dean chuckled as Cas rolled him over to his back again, leaning in close to his ear, “well. I’d imagine he’d be a lot more understanding of you participating in an orgy than if you told him the truth about us, don’t you think?”

Castiel pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as he stood, then pulled on a shirt that he got from his suitcase and slipped on a pair of shoes. Dean propped himself up on an elbow.

“Where ya goin’?”

“Smoke,” he said simply, then pointedly back at Dean on his way out, “but you should get dressed. Room service will be here in…” he looked at his phone before shoving it in his pocket, “well, any minute. I’ll be back soon.”

“Room service?” Dean asked, climbing out of bed reluctantly to grab his clothes. 

“I ordered us some dinner while you were in the shower,” Castiel shrugged, heading towards the door. “I had originally planned to take you out, but...well.”

“Right,” Dean sighed, pulling on his jeans and zipping them up. He went and had a bitch fit, effectively ruining whatever plans Castiel had made.

“I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to go out,” Castiel said carefully, turning to Dean. “At any rate, this hotel has excellent food. Don’t feel like you have to wait for me. Steak is much better when it’s warm.”

Castiel left and Dean pulled on his shirt with a sigh. Hopefully the person bringing the food didn’t expect a tip. Dean rarely carried any cash when he was with Castiel since the man insisted on paying for everything. Not that Dean was complaining. He liked being spoiled.

It wasn’t long before Dean was seated in front of the tv, cutting into a perfectly cooked steak while watching  _ 300. _

He was halfway through his steak when he realized Castiel still hadn’t come back. Dean sighed and grabbed his phone, shooting off a quick text.

Dean:  _ u better come back or imma eat ur steak _

Castiel:  _ Don’t you touch it, boy. _

Dean:  _ or wat _

Castiel:  _ Not all punishments are as pleasurable as spanking. _

Dean’s eyes widened and he put the phone away with a blush, going back to his food and pointedly ignoring Castiel’s tray.

Castiel finally did come back another ten minutes or so later, and he sat down and ate quickly. He pulled Dean into his arms when they were both done and they finished watching the movie, Castiel occasionally dozing, his head falling back against the headboard, snoring softly. 

Dean shook him awake when the movie went off, and they stripped and got in bed. Dean very intentionally laid on his side of the bed, but it wasn’t five minutes before a half-asleep Castiel pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his middle. Dean knew he shouldn’t allow it, but it was their last night in New York, his last night in bed with Castiel until the unforeseen future, and he wasn’t about to deny himself something he so desperately wanted, whether Castiel had meant to do it or not.

He was asleep in minutes, mind blessedly devoid of dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't get to everyone's comments over the last couple of days, but I was kind of on a roll editing and posting ;) I'll try to get back to responding to you all again this week. Hope you enjoyed the four in four! <3


	13. Chapter 13

“Hey, anyone home?”

Dean pushed his way inside the house, a bag in each hand, and kicked the door closed behind him. He sat a bag on top of the table and the other on the floor, walking through the empty kitchen and back around to the living room. It was only shortly after 5 p.m., so John was probably still at work...not that his absence was all that strange to begin with.

“Sammy?”

No answer. Dean frowned and walked down the hall towards his room, banging absently on the wall a few times as he passed the bathroom. He ducked his head into Sam’s room, finding it empty, and pushed his own door open with a huff.

He stopped suddenly at the doorway when he saw Sam sitting on his bed, looking up at him with concern.

“Dean-”

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean said, giving him a smile. He crossed his arms and leaned against his door frame. “Miss me?”

A ghost of a smile just barely crossed Sam’s lips and he swallowed, looking down at his hands. Dean tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward.

“Hey...everything okay? Somethin’ happen while I was gone? Was it dad? Did he-”

“No, Dean-”

“Jess, then? Everything okay with you two? _Jesus,_ I leave for three days and this place practically falls apart without me-”

Sam huffed and slid to the floor, and Dean’s eyes widened as he slid a box- _the_ box- out from under the bed and over to Dean’s feet. Dean kept his expression carefully neutral as he looked down at it, swallowing hard and furrowing his brow as he looked up at Sam.

“Sam, what-”

“What is _that?_ ”

It only took Dean a moment to recover and he frowned, pushing himself off the doorframe and gesturing angrily at Sam. “What the hell you goin’ through my room for? This is _my private shit_ , Sam, and you had no right-”

“Just tell me what it is!” Sam yelled, then shook his head and closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. “Just tell me, Dean. Please.”

Dean felt his cheeks grow hot and he looked down at the stupid fucking box, shaking his head. “You know what it is.”

“But why? Why do you have it hidden under your bed? Why- I mean...you...are you…?”

“Because I like guys too!” Dean threw his hands up, and weirdly the statement almost didn’t sound as weird coming out of his mouth as it did in his head. He frowned, and looked back up at Sam’s wide eyes. “Yeah. So...that’s why.”

Sam shook his head, perhaps in denial or maybe because he really just didn’t understand. “But, I mean...Lisa-”

“I’m _bi_ , Sam,” Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I like both, okay? Look, I wanted to tell you. Eventually. This wasn’t exactly how I wanted you to find out, but...apparently you can’t keep out of my private space. So here we are.”

Sam had the audacity to look ashamed and glanced away. “I...I was looking for your stash of money.”

“Oh,” Dean scoffed and shook his head. “You were gonna steal from me. That’s awesome. I should go away more often. How often do you come in here to look for money?”

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “I just wanted to take Jess to the movies and my allowance-”

“You know what?” Dean strode into the room and jerked his head towards the door. “I really don’t give a fuck. Get out.”

Sam frowned, his hands fidgeting. “Dean, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t- can we just talk about all this? I mean I just found out my big brother is gay-”

“ _Bi_ ,” Dean corrected with a growl. “And I’m sorry if that disappoints you, but I’m not changing just to make you happy. God knows everything else in my life revolves around you. Now get out and stay out of my shit.”

“That is _not_ true,” Sam snapped, narrowing his eyes. “Not everything is about me, Dean. I wish you’d quit with this whole ‘self-sacrificing older brother’ crap, like I’m the reason you’re unhappy. No one said you had to put your life on hold for me.”

“Shows how much you’ve been paying attention,” Dean said darkly, grabbing Sam’s arm a little rougher than necessary and dragging him to the door. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I was told to do. Now get. Out.” He shoved his brother through the doorway and slammed it shut, angrily kicking the box away.

Fuck.

Dean scrubbed his hands down his face and kicked the box back under his bed, flopping down on the mattress. He heard the door to Sam’s room close and he sighed. He hadn’t meant to be that harsh with him, but he also didn’t expect to come home to find him in his room with literally the one thing he hadn’t ever wanted him to see.

Could’ve been worse, he reminded himself. He could’ve caught him and Castiel together, or seen texts between the two of them...which immediately had him pulling out his phone to delete their text thread.

He heard John come in about an hour later and the tv cut on almost immediately after. Sam never came back for money, or to ask him for a ride, but sometime that night after John had gone to bed and Dean was on his third _Die Hard_ movie, there was a soft knock on his door. Dean almost feigned sleep, but finally he slipped his phone under his pillow and pulled the comforter up to his waist.

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly and Sam stood in the crack, looking down nervously, his hand still on the doorknob.

Dean sighed and flapped a hand at him. “Don’t just stand there like a weirdo. C’mere.”

Sam took a few steps inside, wringing his hands nervously. “Dean, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I mean it. I didn’t...I just wasn’t expecting...that, and I didn’t know what to say. And I just...I wish you’d told me sooner. I thought we told each other everything, and I…” he bit his lip, looking up at the Metallica and AC/DC posters on Dean’s wall. “I guess I was just hurt because you didn’t feel like you could tell me about this, too.”

Dean swallowed and set his jaw, looking at the television without really even seeing what was on the screen.

“I just...I just wanted to tell you that I...I’m okay with it, Dean. I’m good with it. It doesn’t change anything between us and I just want you to be happy. And I’m sorry I found out this way. I wish I could’ve found out from you instead.”

Sam stared at his brother for a moment then turned to leave, pausing when Dean called out a soft “wait”. He looked back just as Dean paused the movie and gestured for him to come closer.

Sam closed the door and stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously. “Dean-“

“Look, I’m sorry you found out that way, too,” Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not like I wasn’t ever going to tell you, but I...hell, Sam, I was still coming to terms with it myself. It’s only recently that I’ve gotten comfortable with it. Most of my friends don’t even know. Just Charlie...maybe Benny. Hard to tell with him. Sure as fuck haven’t told dad.”

Sam winced and looked down. “Yeah, I’m not...I’m not sure how he will take it.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “You and I both know he’ll take it about as easy as passing a kidney stone.” He shook his head. “Sammy, I’m still, uh, new to it all. So I would appreciate you not saying anything to anyone, okay?”

Sam nodded solemnly. “Of course, Dean. I won’t say anything.”

Dean quirked a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam chewed his lip. “I just...I want you to know, that as long as you’re happy, I don’t care who you love. I mean, if you met someone you feel the same about as I do about Jess, I’d just be happy you got to have that. Someone you can have fun with, you laugh and smile with. You deserve that.”

Dean stifled a smile and looked down at his lap, ears burning.

Sam shifted on his feet and pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. “Alright well, I’m gonna head to bed. We can talk more tomorrow, if you want to.”

Dean nodded and Sam left without another word, pulling the door softly closed behind him. Dean picked up his remote and pointed it at the television, then paused, sitting it back down and picking up his phone instead.

Dean: _u awake_

Castiel: _Yes._

Dean hesitated with his thumb over the keypad, skimming the buttons. He chewed his lip nervously, frowning at the screen, until he hyped himself up enough to send his next message.

Dean: _for the record, i didn’t think the kiss was a mistake_

Castiel didn’t respond for so long that Dean finally laid the phone in his lap- face up, of course, so he could see the _exact_ moment it lit up again- and turned the movie back on. The distraction effort was fruitless, though, since Dean was looking down at the phone every couple of seconds, until Castiel finally responded almost ten minutes later.

Castiel: _Not a mistake. Inappropriate._

Dean let out a breath, thumbing over the screen like he could wipe the words away, like they were only a figment of his imagination.

Dean: _i’m not her_

A few more minutes passed before his phone lit up again.

Castiel: _Go to bed, Dean._

The phone was tossed to the side and the tv turned off. Dean laid down and closed his eyes, but sleep was a long way off.

\----

“So...are you seeing someone?”

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes, then fixed them firmly on the road.

“Yes,” he said blandly, offering no other information.

Sam stared at him for a moment. “Are you gonna tell me wh-”

“No,” Dean said firmly, but not unkindly. “Not tryna be a dick, Sammy. I just...can’t tell you. I have reasons, trust me. And no, it’s nothing illegal or dangerous. I just can’t tell you.”

Sam tapped a finger on his knee. “Is it a teacher?”

“Fuck, Sam, _no_ ,” Dean growled, coming to a stop at a fourway. “It’s no one at school, okay? Now drop it. Seriously.”

“Fine, fine,” Sam muttered, slouching in his seat and pouting like a proper teenager.

They were silent the rest of the ride to school and Dean was thankful when Sam caught sight of his friends, darting off after he parked the Impala.

“Dean!”

Dean looked as he fished his backpack out of the backseat to see Charlie approaching him with a raised eyebrow.

“Dude,” she huffed, coming to stand in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. “You were gone for, like, half of spring break. What gives?”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, slamming the door shut. “I was gone for like 3 days.”

“Yeah, well, that’s still a good chunk,” she mumbled, falling into step beside him as they ambled towards the school. “Your dad said you went on some business trip? For an internship or something.”

“Uh, sort of,” Dean cleared his throat, glancing around quickly before lowering his voice. “I went to New York with, you know, _him_.”

Charlie gasped and barely concealed a squeal, grasping Dean’s arm tightly. “Are you telling me while I bummed around playing Mario Kart you were having a sexy weekend with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?”

Dean snorted and shrugged her off. “It wasn’t as great as it sounds,” he mumbled. “We did actually do some work. And, you know, ran into one of his exes.”

“Oh,” Charlie pulled a face. “Awkward.”

“You have no idea,” Dean shook his head. “Anyway, I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Charlie eyed him for a moment, frowning with concern. “Did something happen?”

“Charlie, really, I don’t-”

“Okay, okay,” she held up her hands, her expression soft. “Just sayin’. I’m here if you need someone to talk to. I’ll even help you kick his ass if we need to. I got your back, Dean.”

Dean chuckled. “Thanks.” He held open the door for Charlie and followed her inside. They stopped at their lockers to deposit backpacks and grab a few books, and Benny slapped him on the back as he passed him on his way to class.

“So we on for this weekend?”

Dean frowned, pulling books from his locker and closing it, giving the lock a spin before turning to face Charlie. “This weekend…?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “The _Harry Potter_ marathon on tv and we made plans _weeks_ ago to get together and eat crap food and see if we can, in fact, stay up for twenty straight hours to watch them all. Tell me you didn’t forget.”

“Right, right,” Dean shook his head, chewing his lip. “Um. I-”

“You better not cancel!” Charlie pointed a finger at him, lowering her voice to a hissed whisper: “I get that you’re in a new exciting relationship or whatever with a hot older guy, but we’re still your friends. We don’t have long before we’ll all be going our separate ways-”

“Yeah, I get it,” Dean said, waving a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get out of it.”

“You better.”

She gave him a stern look, then a small smile before turning on her heel and heading to class. Dean let out a breath and started toward his own class, wondering what Castiel would say about him canceling on one of their few days together...especially in light of the current state of their relationship.

Algebra this early in the morning was a crime, so Dean focused on just staying awake rather than actually paying attention. Luckily his teacher was old and never noticed anything outside of the textbook he had his nose buried in, so Dean dug out his phone and thumbed to Castiel’s name.

He sighed and stared at the screen for a while before finally deciding the simple truth would be best.

 

Dean: _gonna have to cancel this Saturday, forgot about some plans I made with Charlie weeks ago_

 

He pressed send and tongued his cheek.

 

Dean: _haven’t hung out with friends in a while and they are starting to notice, damage control_

 

He sighed and sent it, then pointedly pushed his phone aside. His knee bounced as he waited for the screen to light up and before he knew it class was over and Castiel still hadn’t replied.

He’s at work, Dean reminded himself as he grabbed his unopened books. He doesn’t have time for you right now.

Orrrrrr he’s pissed and already looking for a new Sub.

Dean frowned and shook his head, barely looking where he was going as he headed towards his next class. It wasn’t until the end of the school day that he received a response, his phone buzzing inside his jeans as he slipped them back on after gym. He steeled himself, looking down-

 

Castiel: _Okay._

 

Dean blinked in disbelief. That was it? He waited all damn day for ‘okay’? He growled and angrily stuffed the phone back into his pocket, storming out of the locker and earning a few curious looks from the other boys.

It was Monday, which meant a few hours at Bobby’s shop before he could go home. Sam caught a ride home with Jess so Dean didn’t have to double back after dropping him off at home. It was a good thing, he decided, considering he was fucking pissed off and when he got like this he couldn’t hide it from anyone, least of all Sammy.

He worked his typical four hours at the shop, and he finally pulled out of the lot around 7 p.m. He was blessedly busy enough that he hadn’t given the text much thought since he’d gotten there, but now that he was alone with his thoughts again, it was all he could think about, and he got angry all over again. He was halfway to Castiel’s house before he even realized what he was doing.

He pulled into the drive, his heart hammering in his chest as his headlights illuminated a silver Buick sitting in Dean’s usual spot. It was starting to get dark outside and some of the lights on Castiel’s porch were lit, but even with all the windows, he didn’t see any movement inside.

Of course, Dean’s mind immediately went to the worst. Castiel was done with him, had found a new Sub, was in there fucking him or her right now. Or working out their _contract-_ he didn’t know which was worse.

And apparently he was fully of brash moves today, because try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from slamming his car door and stomping directly up to the door, banging hard against the heavy wood. He knocked relentlessly, until his hand ached and the door shook on the hinges, and he was breathing hard when the door finally swung open to reveal a thin, surprised- looking redhead on the other side.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean demanded as he squared his shoulders, his chest heaving.

“I'm Anael,” she said, narrowing her eyes, her grip tightening on the door. “And who the hell are you?”

Dean huffed, looking past her. “Where's Cas?”

Anael opened her mouth to speak but a hand gripped the door from behind and then Castiel was there, looking as casual as he'd ever seen him with a t-shirt and a pair of joggers on. His eyes were burning holes through Dean's skull though, and Dean tried to think of another time the man had ever been actually mad at him.

“ _Dean._ ” He pressed his lips together, his nostrils flared.

“ _This_ is Dean?” Anael asked, looking at Cas with raised eyebrows. He didn't answer and she looked back to Dean, finally extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, Dean. I'm Castiel's little sister _.”_

Dean's face turned what he was sure was a terrific shade of red, but he took her hand. “Oh. Uh, hello.”

They shook and she pulled her hand back, sporting an amused smile. Castiel still hadn't spoken- probably too angry, if his expression was any indication- so Anael pulled the door open a little wider and gestured him inside.

“Come on in. We were just having a drink and chit-chatting. Join us.”

Castiel whipped his head over at her but eventually took a step back as Dean came inside, and Anael walked into the living room, leaving the door wide open. Dean took a deep breath and moved to follow her, but Castiel grabbed his wrist, holding him back. His eyes followed Anael out of view then fixed hard on Dean, his jaw clenched as he spoke lowly.

“ _We'll discuss this later, boy.”_

Dean swallowed nervously and nodded once, too afraid- and, to be honest, still a little too angry- to speak himself. He followed Castiel silently into the living room... the much larger one he rarely saw Castiel ever use, and gingerly sat down in a plush chair. He rubbed at his thighs, casting a quick glance at Castiel before his eyes bounced to Anael. She got comfortable on a spot on the couch where Dean could see she had already pulled up a pillow and blanket, indicating she’d been there a while. She was dressed in pajama bottoms and a large t-shirt that swallowed her tiny form, looking very snug and comfy, about the opposite of what Dean was feeling right now.

“Dean.”

He jumped and turned, eyeing Castiel warily.

“Would you like a drink?”

Dean started shaking his head. “N-no, that’s-”

“Of course he will,” Anael grinned, her eyes sparkling, clearly enjoying the tense situation.

Castiel gave her a look then quickly fixed Dean a small glass of whiskey,. Dean took it with a meek ‘thank you’ and held it in his lap, staring down at the liquid, trying not to notice how far Castiel sat away from him.

“How are you, Dean?” Anael asked sweetly when it was clear Castiel wasn’t going to start any sort of conversation.

“Fine,” Dean murmured, stroking the sides of his glass.

“Sorry to be blunt- I do that- but banging on the door doesn’t seem very...fine.”

Dean didn’t look up from his glass. “It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and set his glass down, moving to stand. “I’m sorry. I’ll just le-”

“Sit. Down.”

Dean winced at the sound of Castiel’s voice, hard and cool, and slowly sat back down.

“Oh, knock it off, Cas,” Anael snorted, undeterred by his tone. “I swear, you can be such an ass sometimes. So, Dean,” she smiled and turned her attention to him. “I’ve heard some things about you.”

“I...haven’t heard a thing about you,” Dean raised a brow.

Anael sighed, but didn’t look all that surprised. “Well, like I said, I’m his sister. Just here for a possible job offer. Figured I’d spend the night with my big bro instead of a depressing hotel room. You’re about to graduate, right?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“Good for you,” she smiled, looking genuine. “I dropped out, you know. Bit of a troubled child, I’m afraid. Eventually got my GED, but that was years later. And only because Cas pushed me to. Said I wasting my intelligence.”

Dean shrugged. “He says what he means.”

Anael blinked and chuckled. “True.”

Castiel looked down at his own glass, absently swirling his drink.

“I’m sorry to disturb your plans,” she said. “I didn’t realize you two...had-”

“We didn’t,” Castiel said bluntly, not looking up from his glass.

Dean’s head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes at Anael, glancing nervously over at Cas. “You...know…?”

“About Castiel’s...extra-curricular activities?” Anael chuckled, looking at Dean over the rim of her glass. “Ah, a bit. But only because I’m nosey, and, well...for some reason, he finds it impossible to lie to me.”

Castiel fingered the rim of his glass, shaking his head.

“No worries, Dean,” Anael said coolly. “I don’t judge.” She drained the rest of her drink, looking down at the empty glass. “Get over yourself, Castiel,” she said without looking up. “He’s here now, and we both know you really wanted him to be, so you may as well lose the brooding Dom act.”

Castiel scoffed and scrubbed a hand down his face, downing his own drink and standing. He left the room without looking at either of them, and Dean tried his best to hide a bit of a smug smile.

“He...wanted me here?”

Anael rolled her eyes. “Of course he did. Don’t let him fool you.” She looked after Cas then gave Dean a sly wink and a smile. “He’s a big softie under all that machismo.”

Dean smiled down at his drink, finally working up the courage to take a large sip. “So you’re here for a job offer?”

Anael shrugged. “Castiel keeps insisting I move down here. He sends me jobs daily. I finally applied for one about a half hour drive from here, a law firm just outside of Kansas City. I could get a small place in Missouri, be close to work and here. That is, _if_ the job interests me.”

“Is that a difficult thing to do?” Dean asked, lips twitching into a smile.

Anael shrugged again and shifted in her seat, throwing one leg over the other. “I guess? I don’t know...I seem to bounce between jobs. I get bored, or the boss is a jackass, or I suddenly can’t _stand_ the building or the street or the local Starbucks. The truth is I have no idea what I want to do and so I find something wrong with every job I take.” She paused and chuckled. “Or that’s what Cas says anyway. He thinks he’s a psychologist sometimes.”

Dean snorted into his drink, though it was kind of nice to know he wasn’t the only one Castiel dissected. “Definitely serious enough for it,” he huffed, relaxing a little more and leaning back in his chair. “Since I’ve met him I think he’s smiled- _really_ smiled- twice. Maybe three times.”

Anael nodded with a small frown, looking down at her drink. “He’s...always been like that. Even as a kid, he was always...you know, quiet.”

Dean frowned and glanced in the direction Castiel had disappeared in. “So, what? He’s just never been happy?”

“Quiet doesn’t mean unhappy,” Anael said. “But, it’s hard to tell with him. I will say, though...this is probably the closest I’ve seen him to happy.”

Dean blinked and blushed when she smiled at him knowingly.

“Hey, look,” she said, leaning forward looking suddenly serious. “I know he can be difficult. And I know what you two have isn’t exactly conventional, so I don’t really have experienced advice to offer you, but I just want to say that ever since he’s started this with you...well, he’s been better.”

Dean tilted his head. “Better?”

Anael shrugged and sighed. “Hard to explain. Cas, you know, kinda throws himself into work and forgets that he’s human. And the last couple of years were particularly rough. But then you came into the picture and...I don’t know, he just seems a little more relaxed. Rested. A little frustrated maybe,” she winked at him and Dean looked down with a blush, “but overall, just...better. Whatever it is that you do for him, it works.”

“I don’t…” Dean frowned, sighing softly. “I don’t... _do_ anything.”

“Says you,” Anael said, groaning as she pulled herself up from the couch and crossed over to the bar. “But I can see a big difference since I last saw him.” The bottle of whiskey clinked against her glass as she poured. “So I don’t know what you’re doing, but...as his sister, I ask that you please keep it up.”

“That’s enough, Ana,” Castiel said smoothly, his voice so close and sudden behind Dean that he jumped slightly. “I don’t appreciate you talking about me as if I’m not here.”

“Well you were in the next room,” Anael said smugly, smiling at him over her glass as she walked back over to the sofa. Dean turned to look hesitantly over the back of his chair, finding Cas eyeing his drink as he leaned casually against the doorway.

“Anyway,” Anael said with a shake of her head, “now that _you’re_ here, I’m going to go get dressed and run to the store for a few things. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” She took one last sip of her drink and sat it down on the coffee table. She patted Dean on his shoulder as she passed by his chair. “Castiel, I’m going to give mother a call on my way, and I was wondering if I could tell her if you planned to make it for-”

“Yes,” he said bluntly, and Anael hesitated for a moment before uttering a soft ‘okay’, quiet footsteps on the stairs following immediately afterward.

Castiel waited a beat, and Dean heard when he finally crossed the room. He leaned over the back of Dean’s chair, flattening his hand against his chest and sighing.

“I don’t believe I gave you a proper hello. I apologize.”

“Were too busy bein’ mad at me, I guess,” Dean muttered, refusing to look up at him.

Castiel sighed again, moving around the chair and sitting his glass on the table before he knelt in front of Dean, not speaking until Dean mustered up the courage to look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel whispered, taking his free hand and stroking it with his thumb. “I wasn’t...I didn’t expect you to come here. I... _naively_ assumed you would obey the rules I set in place.”

“I guess I did as well as you do.”

A pause. Then, “I deserve that.”

Dean cringed but Castiel’s expression held the smallest hint of amusement, his eyes twinkling, mouth quirking in the corner. He was serious, though, just a few seconds later, brow drawing into a straight line.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Dean.”

Dean glanced away. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“I very much doubt that,” Castiel sighed, taking Dean’s hand and squeezing it gently. “You felt compelled enough to come banging down my door.”

Dean chewed his lip and looked down at their clasped hands, Castiel’s darker and little larger. “That weekend really sucked,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself.

Castiel blinked, waiting for him to continue.

“A-and I told you I’m not her, and you don’t-” he shook his head, closing his eyes. “It’s not fair that I’m paying for her mistakes. And I canceled, and I didn’t want to, but Charlie’s pissed because I’m spending all my weekends with you. And all you say is ‘okay’ after ignoring me all day and all I can think of is you wanting to a new Sub, and then I get here and there’s some strange car and then I’m just- just so fucking mad I’m seein’ red-”

“Hey,” Castiel said softly, holding his face in his hands. “Hey, calm down, take a breath.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and focused on breathing, in through his nose, out through his mouth, the way he’d been taught to help him relax.

“That’s it,” Castiel said, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t...well. First, I didn’t intend for your time with me in New York to...go exactly as it did. I didn’t intend to upset you by my text, or ignore you all day…” Dean opened his eyes when he paused, and Castiel pressed his lips together, gesturing vaguely at the direction Anael disappeared to. “But as you can see...I was a little preoccupied. I didn’t know that she was coming until she showed up on my doorstep, and we were just catching up, and I-”

“I’m being ridiculous, I know,” Dean interrupted, shaking his head.

“No, no,” Castiel said, “I should’ve been more considerate of you and how it would seem. It’s my fault, not yours. And I’m not...mad, about you canceling, for the record. I don’t own you.” He paused, waiting until Dean looked at him again. “As for the rest, I...I just...don’t know what you want me to say, Dean. I know you’re not her. I suppose it _isn’t_ fair. But that...well, it was different, you know? It’s not the same for us.”

Of course it wasn’t. Castiel had been in love with her; he didn’t love Dean. He didn’t want him that way. Had no idea that Dean was fighting the words at that very instant, how much he wanted to blurt them out. Dean kept his mouth firmly closed, though, terrified of what would happen if Castiel knew. Maybe it was stupid of him, but he wanted to keep what he had, despite how it was slowly killing him inside. He’d keep it for as long as he can, until he just couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Dean?”

He blinked and cleared his head with a small shake. “Ah, Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Makes sense.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, but Dean just shrugged and looked down at his lap.

“I’m fine,” he lied, even giving Castiel a tiny smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just...I dunno. Overreacted. I’m fine now.”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak again but Anael’s footsteps on the stairs made him pause, and he stood, squeezing Dean on the shoulder as he walked past to open the door for her. Dean stood and leaned against the chair as Anael kissed Castiel on his cheek on her way out the door.

“May go get a massage or something while I’m out. This town _does_ have a masseuse somewhere in it, I hope? Anyway, you have about two hours, Castiel. And I’ll call mother _for_ you this time, but just so you know-”

“I know.”

Anael didn’t say another word before walking out to her car, and eventually Castiel closed the door behind her. Even under the carefully placed blank expression Castiel looked more lost than Dean had ever seen him, and when he finally looked over at him with tired blue eyes, Dean had the overwhelming urge to walk over and wrap his arms around him.

He didn’t, though, and Castiel recovered quickly, straightening and clearing his throat.

“Well, you’re here now. I’d like you upstairs and ready for me in five minutes.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he only hesitated for a second before he darted upstairs, his heart already speeding up. He hadn’t expected a scene tonight, but he wasn’t going to complain. He didn’t even worry about what he would say to John when the man inevitably complained about having no dinner on the table.

Dean quickly entered the den and stripped, his eyes bouncing around from the bed to one of the benches, then the X on the wall. So far Castiel hadn’t used much of his equipment on him, sticking to simple tools or toys. Dean couldn’t deny he was curious about the yet-to-be-used pieces of furniture and equipment, but he also knew they hadn’t been at this for very long. Castiel preferred to take his time with these sort of things.

It felt strange to be in there on a Monday night, but it immediately relaxed Dean. This was his safe space, where he could let go and forget about everything and everyone. Hell, he even forgot himself half the time.

Dean folded his clothes neatly and knelt in front of the chair, hands clasped and head bowed, skin prickling with anticipation and just a little fear. He jumped slightly when Castiel entered and the door shut behind him, bristled at the sound of his shoes scuffing across the floor. He could feel himself trembling inwardly as the man approached, and it took everything in him not to look up at him when he sat in the chair in front of him.

“It feels like it’s been a long time since we’ve been here,” Castiel commented softly, a hand finding its way into Dean’s hair. “We’ll see if I can come up with something exciting for you on such short notice. Do you have anything in mind?”

Dean fidgeted his hands together nervously.

“Look at me, boy.”

Dean snapped his head up, his eyes finding Castiel’s and holding a steady gaze. Castiel tilted his head as he held Dean’s chin, stroking lightly.

“Do you have anything in mind?” he asked again, and Dean swallowed and shook his head.

“No, daddy.”

“Nothing at all?”

Dean chewed his lip. He could think of a bunch of things he wanted out of this, none of which he could ask Castiel for.

“I...want it to hurt.”

“Hurt.” Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Baby, I’m not- my intent is never to _actually_ hurt you, I-”

“I know,” Dean said quickly, “but I...I don’t want to think. I don’t want to be... _here_. If that makes sense.”

Castiel stared down at him for what felt like a long time, but Dean had a tendency to get so lost in those eyes that the flow of time often became muddled. Finally, Castiel blinked and nodded, a barely discernible motion, gently squeezing Dean’s chin.

“You want to get out of your head,” he said, tilting his head.

Dean nodded and licked his lips, blinking up at Castiel with wide eyes. Thank goodness Castiel understood his needs, because Dean sure as hell didn’t.

“Alright,” Castiel scanned the room briefly. “I want to try something with you then. You remember when I said I had a theory about you?”

“Yes, daddy,” Dean said, clenching his hands in anticipation.

“I think you may benefit from bondage,” Castiel murmured, biting his bottom lip. “Not just handcuffs, but something a little...more.”

“...More?” Dean murmured, leaning into Castiel’s warm palm.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “Specifically something called _kinbaku_ , or _shibari_. They mean much of the same. It’s the art of Japanese bondage. I think it may help you ‘not be here’ as you put it, while not causing you any excessive pain since that’s not my desire to do so with you.”

He stood and helped Dean to his feet, then guided him slowly over to the bed. He sat him down and kissed his forehead, resting his hand on his shoulder for a long moment before crossing the room and opening a small chest beside one of his cases. He knelt down as he rifled through it, then pulled out varying colors and lengths of rope, stacking them in his arms.

“The meaning of kinbaku is literally ‘tight binding’,” Castiel said as he laid the rope out on the bed beside Dean, taking one of them in his hands and folding Dean’s hand over it. The rope was somewhat soft for what it was, and not too thick. Castiel held it, watching Dean as he pulled a piece between his fingers. “I’ll wrap you, bind you…” he held Dean’s chin again, turning his head to look at the far corner, where the big wooden X stood, “attach you to that middle hook there...we’ll go as far as you’re comfortable with. And safe words apply as usual.”

“Will it, um,” Dean frowned, looking back down at the rope in his hands. “Will it hurt?”

“It will be...at the most, I think, uncomfortable. But largely I think it will give you that feeling you’re looking for, of being so focused on me, on the feel of the rope on your skin, that you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

Dean eyed the rope with interest and ran his fingers over it, nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay...let’s try it.” He looked up at Castiel, hoping his face didn’t give away how nervous he was. “What, uh, what do I need to do?”

“Nothing, mostly,” Castiel huffed a small laugh as he grabbed one of the bunches of rope. “This requires absolute submission on your part. If I move you a certain way, try not fight me on it. It may not seem like it, but this can be dangerous if not executed with precision. To put you at ease, in case you’re wondering, I’ve been doing this for almost as long as I’ve been a Dom. I’m confident in my capabilities, but there is always a risk. So be a good boy and lie still for me.”

“Yes, daddy.” Dean swallowed and nodded again, his heart rate picking up. This was something entirely new and he wasn’t sure what to expect, if he’d even like it. Dean wasn’t even sure how tying him up would help, but he trusted Castiel’s judgement.

“If you feel any tingling, let me know immediately,” Castiel said, undoing the beautifully wrapped rope in a few simple moves. “Circulation is important during this. If I cut it off, even for a short while, it can lead to nerve damage.”

Dean blinked owlishly. “S-seriously?”

Castiel nodded gravely. “Yes.” He raised the rope and an eyebrow. “Still want to try it?”

Dean clenched his jaw and nodded, his eyes meeting Castiel’s. “Yes. I trust you.”

Castiel paused, staring at Dean with a frustratingly unreadable expression, before nodding to himself. “We’re going to a simple one,” he murmured, unfurling the rope as he eyed Dean’s body critically. “So you can get a feel for it. I’m going to tie this first one across your torso and make what we call ‘diamonds’.”

He pulled the rope through his fingers, dislodging the loose knot and allowing the rope to fall to the floor, until he held roughly the middle in his hands. He tied a knot there, close to the top, leaving only a small circle of rope, and looped it around Dean’s neck, with the knot sitting just above his spine. He pulled the long ends of the rope around with him, letting them fall loosely over Dean’s torso, his fingers sliding down with it. Dean shivered, watching Castiel as he moved, brow furrowed and lips pressed together. Castiel’s eyes met his as he pulled the lengths of rope together just under his collarbone and tied another knot, sliding the ends through slowly. He separated the ends, wrapping them around Dean’s biceps, twice on each side, then crossed the rope again over his chest, braiding it together and separating, together and separating, then wrapping twice again just above Dean’s elbows. He had half of Dean’s torso tied before Dean even realized it, too enamored with watching Castiel work, too distracted by the gentle vibrations of the rope sliding over his skin.

Castiel held both ends of the rope in one hand, tugging harshly, causing Dean to gasp as he was pulled forward slightly. He stroked Dean’s cheek, and Dean found himself obsessing over the lines of Castiel’s too-pink lips, wholly focused on the texture and trying desperately to remember exactly how they felt against his skin.

“How are you feeling?”

Castiel’s voice sounded fuzzy, far away, and it took Dean a moment to register he was being asked a question. He blinked slowly and looked up through his eyelashes.

“Good,” he murmured, paused, then remembered himself. “Daddy,” he added.

“Any tingling?” Castiel ran a finger over one of the diamonds, his eyes darting over each knot.

Dean shook his head, looking down at himself and thinking how strangely beautiful it was, how the rope wrapped around him so perfectly. Like it was a part of him, made for him.

“No, daddy,” he sighed contently, looking back up at Castiel. It was the truth. He didn’t even feel uncomfortable. The rope settled around him at a near perfect pressure, secure and not at all too tight.

“Good.” Castiel smiled briefly and kissed him just under his jaw, stubble scratching against Dean’s skin. Dean closed his eyes when he felt Castiel pull on the rope, resuming his work, though he tried to keep them open to watch as the knots got lower. To his credit, he only blushed a little when Castiel encase his crotch in a diamond, his cock standing proudly in the middle. Dean blinked, having not even realized he was hard, and gasped slightly when the rope vibrated around his ass as Castiel pulled it tight. The rope encircled the tops of his thighs before Castiel finally tied it off, leaving Dean thoroughly wrapped.

“I…” Dean cleared his throat and blinked in awe. “I don’t even know how you did that. And I _watched_ you.”

Castiel chuckled and Dean could see a quick look of pride flash across Castiel’s face before it was replaced with a humble smile. “It’s not as magical as it seems,” he shrugged. “It’s just like anything else. Practice, practice, practice.”

“Well, I like it,” Dean nodded in affirmative.

“What do you like about it?” Castiel asked.

Dean blinked and tongued his cheek. He hadn’t thought about the ‘why’ of it yet. “I dunno,” he tried to shrug, but found his movements were a bit restricted. “It’s like...a security blanket or something. Feels…”

“Safe?” Castiel supplied.

“Yes.”

Castiel traced the rope tied around Dean’s thighs, following its pattern up his torso, looking down between their bodies. “You look fucking beautiful like this.”

Dean felt himself blush as Castiel looked up at him, eyes and lips only maybe an inch or so from his. Castiel inclined his head to the side, and Dean followed his gaze over to the intimidating wooden X in the corner.

“Before I tie your legs, let’s go ahead and move over here. That way I can suspend you a little, see what you think of that.”

“Suspend me?” Dean asked, allowing Castiel to lead him to the corner.

“It sounds more intense than it is, in this case,” Castiel said. “Suspension _can_ get intense, but what I’m thinking of is pretty mild. You’ll see.”

He situated Dean in front of the X, pulling another neat bundle of rope from his pocket and kneeling in front of him. Dean choked when Castiel pressed a kiss to the head of his cock, a shiver running through his whole body. He began tying his ankles, running the rope through metal hoops on the bottom of the structure, then neatly weaving intricate shapes into the rope all the way up Dean’s legs, until he connected them seamlessly to the ones around his thighs.

“Hey.”

Castiel’s voice broke through his haze again, and Dean blinked dazedly up at him- he hadn’t even realized Castiel was standing again.

“I’m just going over here to the bed, for some more rope.” Castiel patted his cheek, waiting for a moment while he let his words sink in, and Dean nodded. He watched each step of Castiel’s, enamored with the way his clothes hung off his body, with the way he moved, with his entire presence.

Castiel returned seconds later in what simultaneously felt like a lifetime, but it hadn’t bothered Dean at all. He hummed happily as Castiel stepped in front of him and slid his hands around his waist, working behind his back as he pressed their foreheads together, breath mingling. He finally pulled away to finish, pulling the rope behind him up and through hoops at the top of the structure. He backed away from Dean, pulling the ends of the rope in each hand, forcing Dean up onto his tiptoes for a brief second, then loosening the hold again.

  


Dean’s head lulled and he glanced down at himself again, having a hard time believing that this was really _him_ he was looking at. It felt a dream, a blurry dream he had no intention of waking up from. Already he could feel his mind slipping, feel himself drifting on waves that could carry him out to pure bliss.

“What…” he slurred, blinking and furrowed his brows as he tried again. “What am I…?”

“It’s called Sub space,” Castiel answered, watching Dean with such an utter look of intensity and hunger that it was almost palpable. How he had anticipated or even understood Dean’s question was beyond him. “It’s a little different for each Sub, and some can’t slip into it, but you seem to be quite susceptible to it.” Castiel tilted his head. “Hand-feeding, sucking my cock, bondage...it all seems to make you fall into it. It’s...fascinating to watch.”

“Oh,” was all Dean could manage, not really understanding and not caring either. He flexed his fingers, pinned to his sides, and found that was absolutely trapped. He couldn’t move anything save for his head and the tips of is fingers, perhaps his toes if he tried. Dean vaguely wondered that he should probably feel afraid, or nervous at the very least, but he felt none of that. It was weirdly comfortable and he trusted Castiel, not even considering the fact that he was completely helpless to the man now. He was safe and knew this down to his core.

“How long can I stay like this?” Dean asked softly, in no hurry for Castiel to untie him.

“A while,” Castiel said lowly, stepping forward and cupping Dean’s cheek, smiling softly when Dean immediately leaned into the touch. “For this particular suspension, anyway. Some suspensions can only last a short while, and even some just a few minutes. But we will talk more about those when the time comes.”

Dean moaned when Castiel thumbed his cock’s leaking slit, smearing the pre-cum along the stiff shaft.

“You won’t last long,” Castiel said thoughtfully, watching Dean’s cock twitch as he tugged at the rope again. “It would appear my theory about you was correct, sweet boy. It seems so obvious now. _Jesus_ , you’re beautiful. You were made for this, baby. I could look at you all day.”

Dean whimpered as Castiel took a step forward, pulling on the rope and forcing Dean to his toes. Castiel mouthed at his neck, looped an arm around his waist and slid his fingers across one of the ropes. Dean’s cock dragged against Castiel’s pants, his head overly sensitive. He felt ready to burst at any moment, the way he felt when he was on the brink of orgasm just before going over. Castiel had barely touched him, save for weaving the rope over his body, but the sensuality and intimacy they shared during the act had Dean at his will, a puppet hanging by strings- _literally_ \- that Castiel controlled. The thought should’ve scared him, suffocated him, angered him...but all he could think about was how safe he felt, how loved, how cherished.

He moaned low in his throat when Castiel took his cock in his hand again, his legs trembling uncontrollably. Castiel stroked him slowly with his thumb and middle finger, stopping briefly to thumb his slit.

“Daddy…” Dean whimpered brokenly, lolling his head to the side to nuzzle Castiel’s stubbled cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweet boy,” Castiel said softly, but his voice didn’t hold the same cadence it usually did, the same smugness in the words ‘sweet boy’. They were said lovingly, admiringly, reverently.

He pulled back to look at him, his eyes so blue and so intense that Dean was actually intimidated by them. He wasn’t looking at Dean’s eyes though, but slightly lower, and it may have been Dean’s fogginess that made him imagine Castiel leaning forward before catching himself and pressing the kiss to his cheek.

He tugged on the rope and began stroking Dean again, faster this time, precum slicking his way, and it was a mere few seconds before blackness dotted Dean’s eyes and he closed them, crying out as he came.

Castiel milked him mercilessly, stroking Dean until he was twitching with the overstimulation. Castiel finally released his spent cock and Dean’s head lulled to the side, his eyes heavy and glassy and his chest heaving with every breath. It was good that he was tied so securely otherwise Dean was positive he would have collapsed. What’s more was that he didn’t care. He was floating high on a sea of bliss, his mind blessedly silent and foggy, his only awareness that of Castiel and his mouth on his neck.

“Beautiful,” Castiel whispered into his skin, a hand resting on his waist and stroking the rope that bound him. “Perfect, baby. That was so _perfect_. Fuck, I love watching you. You’re so pretty when you fall to pieces, sweet boy.”

Dean closed his eyes and arched his neck as Castiel sucked at his pulse point, teeth grazing the spot briefly. He wondered if Castiel wanted to leave a more permanent mark and was surprised by how much the idea appealed to him. He wanted to be claimed, let the world know who he belonged to, even if it meant his dad seeing it too. Especially if it meant Yulia seeing it, just so he can rub it in her face. Childish and maybe even undeserving, but Dean was uncharacteristically selfish when it came to his Dom.

Castiel pulled away, still holding tightly to the rope as he leaned down to untie the ones binding Dean’s ankles to the wooden structure. He held Dean tightly against his body when he stood again, supporting his full weight as he finally released the rope he was holding. He pulled it through the hoops and let it fall to the floor as he lifted Dean into his arms and carried him to the bed.

The bed felt unreasonably and impossibly soft, only furthering the idea that he was _actually_ floating, even as Castiel untied his bindings slowly and methodically.

“Still with me, baby?”

Castiel’s voice was far away, registering slowly, like Dean was being pulled from underwater, his ears full of water, sound distorted.

“Hm?”

Castiel chuckled as his fingers moved deftly over the rope, unraveling Dean’s legs. Dean shivered as the rope slid over his skin, and he moaned softly when he felt Castiel’s hands soothe the indents. Dean drifted until Castiel lifted his head, pulling the last bit of the rope from around his neck and tossing it to the floor.

“What do you need, sweet boy?”

Dean lolled his head from side to side, frowning, trying to get his mind and body work. “M tired,” he managed to mumble, and it sounded clear in his head, but the look on Castiel’s face indicated that it was indiscernible.

 _“Tired,_ ” he said again, loud and drawn out, and the word felt weird on his tongue.

Castiel responded but Dean didn’t bother to try to decipher was he said, and next he knew he was in the air again, in Castiel’s arms. It was like a video clip stitched together, with scenes that skip the in-betweens; one minute he was in Castiel’s arm in the den, the next splayed out on a large soft bed. Castiel tucked in behind him and the last thing Dean registered was the man’s arms circling his torso and his lips pressed just behind his ear.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long one for all of our good boys and good girls.
> 
> Don't get fired to read this. Definitely eat and hydrate before and after.
> 
> Appreciation and aftercare,  
> Sydney and Lauren xo

Dean woke with a start, his eyes going wide when he realized he had no  _ idea  _ where he was. Castiel’s house...that he could remember...but it wasn’t the den, wasn’t his room. He sat straight up in the bed, his hands darting out to the sides, one landing on a small piece of paper that sported Castiel’s neat scrawl.

_ We’re downstairs. Clothes at the foot of the bed. _

The bed was warm and soft and as much as Dean didn’t want to leave it, he stood and dressed quickly. He didn’t realize until he exited and shut the door behind him- when he turned to look back at the hallway- that he was in Castiel’s room, and the realization made him wish he’d relished the comfort of the bed a little longer.

He heard Castiel and Anael talking and laughing as he neared the bottom of the steps, and when he rounded the corner into the living room they were sitting on the couch together, Castiel on one end and Anael on the other, with her feet in his lap, drinks in both their hands.

“Dean!” she said with a bright smile, straightening and tucking her legs under her. She tapped the couch between the two of them. “Come sit.”

Castiel smiled as he made his way across the room, watching him over the rim of his glass when he took a sip.

“We’re  _ reminiscing _ ,” she said dramatically with an eyeroll, and Dean quirked a smile, figuring by Castiel’s scoff that she was poking fun at something he’d said with his exceptional vocabulary. 

“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.” Anael had that same twinkle in her eye that Castiel sometimes got, which is about all they had in common, as far as Dean could tell. She was small-framed, with sharp brows and and chocolate brown eyes. Her hair was long and wavy, auburn with caramel highlights.

“No, she won’t,” Castiel warned, but she rolled her eyes again, waving him off.

“Something funny,” Dean said immediately, grinning at her. “He takes himself way too seriously.”

“That he does,” Anael said with an amused smile, tilting her head and raising her drink when Castiel let out an appalled squawk. “Okay, I’ve got a good one-”

“Don’t tell the popcorn story,” Castiel said, pointing at her with the hand holding his glass.

“I’m telling the popcorn story,” Anael insisted with a mischievous grin. Castiel huffed and stood, shaking his head as he crossed the room for a refill.

“Dad actually told me about this one, because I was only a baby when it happened,” Anael started, already laughing at the story she hadn’t yet told. “So Cas was this cute little 4-year-old...I kid you not, the child looked like a little cherub when he was that age, with porcelain skin and rosy cheeks and that dark curly hair…”

“Get on with it,” Castiel muttered grumpily, his back turned as the glasses clinked together.

“So one day he’s watching tv with dad, eating some popcorn, and next thing dad knows he’s screaming bloody murder and pointing at his nose.” Anael paused as she laughed, her drink shaky precariously in her glass. “So dad’s freaking out, right? Trying to figure out what the hell happened and why Cas is fucking losing his mind, and it turns out Cas shoved fucking popcorn kernels up his nose and couldn’t get them back out.”

Dean grinned, looking up at Castiel when he returned to the couch. “What?!” 

Castiel shrugged and shook his head, handing him a full glass of water. “Drink.”

Dean almost rolled his eyes, but he took the glass and dutifully raised it to his lips.

“So mom and dad tried for a half hour to get them out, mom trying to push them down and dad holding him still, but dad would let Cas go every time he screamed. So finally mom had to call our neighbor over and get them out with a toothpick.” By the end of the sentence Anael had tears in her eyes and was shaking uncontrollably, leaning against Dean as he laughed as well.

“She still laughs about this story like she hasn’t told it 100 times,” Castiel grumbled, taking a sip of his drink.

“And then!” Anael continued, uncaring of Castiel’s comments, “ _ Oh _ , and  _ then _ ...he fucking did it _ again _ the next time they had popcorn! Why?! Why would you do that?!”

Dean looked to Castiel with a huge smile on his face, and Castiel’s face actually looked a little red. He refused to look at them, focusing hard on his drink. Finally he shrugged.

“I just wanted to see if they’d fit.”

“Twice?!” Dean teased, and Anael doubled over again.

“All right, all right, enough with the jokes at my expense,” Castiel grumped, but a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he put his arm around Dean’s shoulders. “Don’t forget I have shit on you too, kid.”

“Like what?” Dean asked enthusiastically, turning to Castiel with a grin.

“She had the  _ worst _ diapers as a baby,” Castiel grimaced at the memory and shook his head. “Any time she was changed I had to go outside.”

“Oh, so you meant actual shit,” Dean laughed.

“I was a  _ baby _ ,” Anael pouted. “I had no control over that. Also, diapers by nature are stinky.”

“You weren’t just stinky,” Castiel deadpanned. “You were  _ hazardous _ .”

“Well, at least I wasn’t shoving popcorn up my nose.”

“No, but you single-handedly cost the middle school orchestra first place.”

Anael gasped and pointed at him accusedly. “They said it wasn’t because of me!”

“Well, we both know it was,” Castiel smirked and turned to Dean, his eyes sparkling much like Anael’s had been. “It was a big competition and she sat in the third row. They were in the middle of their big finish and she suddenly shrieks at the top of her lungs-”

“I saw a mouse!” 

“-stands up, knocks over her music stand, which hits the kid in front her who falls and hits the kid in front of  _ him _ , and sends them all flying. One of the instruments slides across the stage and smacks a member of the audience in the first row, the kids are all on the ground, sheet music is everywhere, and the whole concert is stopped dead.”

Dean was doubled over, snorting on his laughter, and Anael is glaring daggers at her smug older brother.

“Yeah,” she huffed, “and this jackass is laughing his ass off the whole damn time. So much so that mother had to drag you outside.”

Castiel shrugged, smirking into his drink. “It was funny.”

“Do you still play?” Dean teased and Anael turned her glare on him.

“ _ No _ ,” she scoffed. “I was scarred for life. Never touched an instrument again. Mother tried to get me into ballet, but I refused to wear tutus.”

“You sound a little too clumsy for ballet,” Dean chuckled and Castiel snorted into his drink.

Anael waved her hand. “Mother was always trying to get us into extracurricular activities. I tried a ton of stuff. I wasn’t very good at any of it.”

Dean hummed and scratched idly at his cheek. “My dad pushed sports on me. Basketball, football...I’m alright at it, but I never really enjoyed it.”

“So what do you like to do?” Anael raised a brow.

“Computers,” Dean shrugged modestly, looking down at his lap. “Anything and everything to do with them. I like building them and I like creating software.”

Castiel squeezed his shoulder and Anael smiled softly at him. “It’s a lucrative business. All the more wonderful if you enjoy it.”

Dean nodded. “I do.”

Anael hummed and sipped her drink and Castiel cleared his throat, drawing Dean’s attention.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, sincerely. Dean’s ears heated and he fidgeted in his seat, fingering the rim of his glass.

“Um. Good. I’m good. Yeah.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I-”

“Oh for god’s sake, Cas, he says he’s  _ fine,” _ Anael insisted, standing and taking Castiel’s drink over to the bar to get them both refills despite Castiel’s refusal. “Besides, he’s right here where we can both watch him, he’s drinking, and look at him. He’s good. Perhaps you’re not as  _ good _ as you think you are.”

She smirked down at him when she handed him his drink, and he rolled his eyes.

“What time is it, anyway?” Dean wondered aloud, pulling out his phone, his eyes widening slightly. “Shit.  _ Shit _ , it’s almost midnight. My dad, he’s gonna...I really should go.”

Cas set his jaw. “You didn’t tell your father you were coming here?”

Dean was glad Anael started talking before he had the chance to.

“Nooo, stay,” she whined, pulling on his arm and laying her head on his shoulder. “I actually  _ like  _ you. Why don’t you just stay here?”

“It’s a school night,” Castiel said with a smirk, downing his drink faster than he had any right to. “And besides, much more of this and we’ll both be spilling secrets Dean doesn’t need to be hearing.”

“Oh, I’ll just tell him later,” Anael winked. 

“Look forward to it,” Dean smiled at her and stood, pocketing his phone. “But I really should go. I’ll be lucky if my dad doesn’t ream my ass for being out so late.”

Castiel frowned at that and stood, gazing at Dean worriedly. “Your father, will he really be angry? I could-”

“Don’t worry about it, Cas,” Dean shrugged. “He’ll get over it. Not like I do this very often.”

“If you’re sure.”

Dean had the urge to kiss the man and restrained himself, shocked by how natural it felt to just lean forward and kiss Castiel goodbye. It was something he was definitely going to have to watch with himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured, clearing his throat. “It was, uh, good meeting you Anael. I’ll see you later, Cas.”

Castiel walked him to the door and kissed his forehead, once again asking if he felt okay and Dean once again telling him he was fine. He could tell Castiel was worried about the lack of proper aftercare, but he honestly felt good. 

Castiel finally conceded to let him go and Dean was on the road in minutes, probably driving a little too fast to be safe but in too much of a hurry to care. The house was dark when he got home and he breathed a small sigh of relief. With any luck, John had fallen asleep before he even noticed that Dean hadn’t come home after work. 

He closed himself in his room and stripped down to his boxers, immediately turning off his light- best not to push his luck- and getting in bed. He unlocked his phone and opened his text messages, hesitating with his thumb over Castiel’s name. He didn’t know what he would say, or why he felt he needed to say anything, so he finally sighed and dropped his phone on his chest, opting to turn on the tv instead.

He jerked awake some time later to the sound of his phone ringing, and he blinked blearily at the screen, finding it close to 2 a.m. before he noticed that it was  _ Cas  _ calling. Calling  _ him _ , at 2 a.m.

Dean almost dropped the phone as he clumsily attempted to answer, finally managing to swipe correctly across the stupid screen and press it to his ear.

“Cas?”

There was some rustling on the other end of the line and he could hear Castiel breathing softly into the receiver before he finally spoke. “Dean.”

“Hey. Do you...y’know what time it is?”

Castiel gave a throaty hum. “Late, I’d imagine. Or early...depends on one’s outlook.” His words slurred slightly, and Dean chuckled.

“Did you... _ drunk  _ dial me, Cas?”

More rustling, a long pause. Dean furrowed his brow, leaning heavily against his phone hand and closing his eyes.

“I...I suppose I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You didn’t let me know you were home. And I wanted to...hear you.”

“Hear me.”

“Yes.”

Dean huffed, tried not to get his hopes up for this being anything other than drunken nonsense. “Well, sorry about not tellin’ you when I got here-” and when did  _ that _ start?- “but I’m tryin’ to sleep here, so-”

“Dean, wait.” 

It was so insanely quiet on the other end of the line that Dean could hear Castiel walking, his shoes scuffing against the hardwood. Like he was pacing. The sound would’ve been enough to lull him to sleep given enough time.

“This… um. Whatever this is, with us, it…” Castiel let out a breath, heavy into the receiver, “it...can’t...happen.”

Even expecting as much, Dean’s heart sank, and he recovered with an eye roll. “Yeah, I know. You didn’t have to call to tell me that.”

“No, Dean, I…” Castiel groaned in annoyance, “it’s...nothing is going like it’s supposed to.” Dean couldn’t tell if he meant the conversation itself or their relationship, but he shook his head.

“Look, it’s fine. You’re drunk, and I’m tired, so I’m gonna go.”

“The kiss wasn’t a mistake, Dean,” Castiel said quickly, followed by a huff. “It...it wasn’t. But I can’t...we  _ can’t _ .”

“Can you tell me why?” Dean demanded, figuring if Castiel was going to make him have this conversation at two in the fucking morning he was going to get some answers. “Why it would be so terrible to kiss me and let me sleep in your bed?”

“It wouldn’t,” Castiel sighed and Dean heard the rustle of sheets, assuming Castiel was getting into bed. “It would be wonderful.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. That makes sense.”

Castiel huffed in frustration. “Dean, I-”

“I am not her,” Dean growled, his lack of sleep and the early morning making him more than a little snippy. “Is this why you called? To tell me all of this?”

“No,” Castiel groaned and Dean thought he heard his voice crack, the sound vulnerable and odd when coming from a man who was usually so put together. “I just- wanted to hear you. I...missed you.”

Dean blinked and relaxed, feeling his anger drain in seconds. Sure, the guy was drunk and not really making a lot of sense, but it was still nice to hear Castiel actually missed him. To hear him speak openly. Besides, Dean couldn’t, in all good conscience, shoot down a man when he sounded so...lost. His heart ached and he wanted so badly to reach through the phone, take Castiel’s hand and pull him into bed.

“Well,” Dean cleared his throat. “I was just there, y’know.”

“You left.”

“In case you forgot, I live with my dad. Not all of us are rich bachelors who live in a big house and come and go as they please.”

“I’ll buy you house.”

Dean rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. “Yeah, whatever.”

There was a pause and Dean heard more rustling, and when Castiel spoke again his voice sounded closer and slightly muffled.

“Do you miss me, too?”

Dean licked his lips and turned over on his side. “Always.”

He chewed on his lip and closed his eyes, willing himself to remember that this was a drunk dial. It meant nothing. Castiel had no idea what he was saying. 

“Goodnight, Castiel.”

The silence on the other line felt strangely disappointed and when Castiel spoke he sounded resigned. 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

 

**_2 Months Later_ **

The following months passed quickly. Dean graduated from high school. Anael accepted a receptionist position at the law firm, which Dean suspected she only finally did to be closer to Castiel. Sam took a summer job at the local hardware store, and he and Jess spent most of their free time together. John worked his normal schedule, giving Dean more opportunity to spend with Castiel outside of his job at the shop, where he worked four days a week now instead of two. 

They hadn’t spoken much more about the conversation that night. In fact, Castiel didn’t bring that specific conversation up at all, and Dean began to wonder if he’d dreamt the whole thing.

But things had definitely changed between them. Dean was still trying to decipher if that change was a good one or a bad one. Their stares lingered a little longer, touches turned gentler, fucking turned into something slow and intimate more often than not. Not that Dean would really know what the norm was for a relationship like theirs. For all he knew, it could’ve been par for the course.

It  _ should’ve _ been a good thing. The problem was he didn’t know if Castiel had noticed the change in the same way he did, and if not, he worried what he would do when he did.

By mid June they’d used just about every piece of furniture and toy Castiel had in his den- aside from the ones that, frankly, terrified Dean. They spent more times talking about themselves, their interests, their likes and dislikes. Dean now knew that Castiel’s favorite color was yellow, he hated onions with a passion, winter was his favorite time of the year, and he worked out like a madman when he couldn’t sleep.

It was late one Friday night, and they were in the tub after an intense scene involving the edging that Castiel so loved and a bit of flogging. Dean was laying back against Castiel’s chest with his eyes closed, Castiel running the loofah slowly down his arm.

“Did you ever decide what you wanted to do about school?”

Dean hummed. “I...I think I want to go. But it’s too late now. I’ll have to wait and apply for the spring semester, I guess.”

Castiel was quiet for a moment before wrapping his arms around Dean’s middle. “Would you be angry if I told you it was already taken care of?”

Dean frowned and opened his eyes, looking back at Castiel. “What?”

Castiel shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I already applied for you. You were accepted months ago. There’s a spot for you… should you want it.”

Dean kept his expression carefully neutral. “And you didn’t tell me before now?”

Castiel flinched. “I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t want to push you, but I didn’t want you to miss out, if you wanted to go-”

“Cas.”

Castiel paused. “Yes?”

Dean carefully turned to straddle Castiel’s lap- easy to do since the tub was so damn big- and looked the man in the eye. 

“That’s an incredible invasion of my privacy.” 

Castiel’s face fell and he swallowed, shaking his head. “I know, I-“ 

He was interrupted by a hard kiss on his cheek, hands fisting in his thick hair, as Dean pressed up against him. “Thank you.” 

Castiel hesitated then returned the smile and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, squeezing him closer if that were possible. “You’re welcome.” 

Dean sighed and rested his head on Castiel’s shoulder as Castiel ran a hand up his spine. 

“You’re not angry?” Castiel asked carefully, and Dean wanted to laugh. 

“No, that would be stupid,” he snorted. “You got me into college. What reason do I have to be angry?” 

“It  _ was _ sort of...crossing a line.” 

“Yeah, well, you tend to do that,” Dean grinned. “Why would that change? Besides, I kinda like it when you take control like that.” 

“Oh really?” Castiel deadpanned. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Dean’s smile faded and he fell into a comfortable, happy silence, his cheek pressed against Castiel’s shoulder, shivering lightly as the man traced his spine with his fingertips. 

“Now all that’s left is to tell your father.”

Dean closed his eyes and let out a bratty groan. 

“He’ll be proud,” Castiel said confidently, pulling Dean back so he could look at him. “You make good grades. Just tell him you got scholarships. He doesn’t have to know I helped you out.”

Dean threaded a hand into Castiel’s hair, not looking into the man’s eyes. “Will I still see you?”

“All the time. So long as your studies don’t suffer from it.”

Dean rolled his eyes but smiled. “Okay. I’ll tell dad tonight.”

“Good boy.”

“Hey, I was thinkin’...” Dean started, sinking back against the opposite end of the tub, “I know how you don’t typically take vacations, but Bobby’s gonna be gone week after next and he’s closin’ down the shop, so I’ll have that whole week to make plans, if...you know…”

Castiel’s face puzzled, finally sinking into understanding. “The week of the 4th.”

“Yeah.”

Castiel sighed and pulled Dean’s feet into his lap, massaging them beneath the water. “I, um. I actually...have something that week.”

Dean’s face fell. “Oh. Okay. That’s fine, I just-”

“I want to,” Castiel said quickly, nodding at him. “I do. It’s just...I can’t...miss this. It’s kind of a tradition, and…” he trailed off, frowning down at the water, lost in thought.

“Yeah,” Dean said, shrugging. “‘Course. It’s fine.” He pulled his foot away and stood, leaning over to grab one of the fluffy towels. He patted down his chest and scrubbed it through his hair.

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked him, as he always did multiple times after their scenes.

“Feel good,” Dean said emotionlessly, looking down to give him an unconvincing smile. “Really.”

“Dean, you…” Castiel stood, accepting the towel that Dean hands to him, and frowned. “You believe me, don’t you? That I...I would love to spend a whole week with you, but this is…” he sighed, his eyes downturned and tired. “I would say it’s an obligation, but it’s a bit more than that. Just know that my presence is required.”

Dean sighed, his heart breaking a little at the lost puppy look Castiel was currently giving him, and reached out to grab his hand still damp from the water. “It’s fine, really,” he murmured, squeezing Castiel’s hand and putting on a slightly more convincing smile. “Family shit is...well, I know how it is. I didn’t think you were lyin’, Cas. I’m just...y’know, disappointed.” Dean shrugged and stepped out of the tub, turning away so Castiel didn’t see the fake smile fall away. “It’s not a big deal, though. We’ll have other opportunities.”

He heard Castiel sigh, but the man didn’t say anything more about it as they both dressed. He followed Castiel downstairs and into their living room. Dean had taken to calling it  _ theirs _ since it seemed like Castiel only used it when it was just him and Dean. He had no idea what the purpose of this was, but Dean liked having that they had their own little space outside of the den. 

“Were you...planning on staying for a little while?” Castiel asked somewhat hesitantly, eyeing Dean carefully as if trying gauge his mood.

“I’d like to,” Dean said, raising a brow.

Castiel looked relieved and just like that the tension was lessened, the awkwardness disappearing as they both settled on the couch. Dean made himself comfortable in Castiel’s lap and smiled when Castiel’s hands immediately threaded into his hair. 

“So,” Dean murmured as he turned on the tv, keeping the volume low. “Guess I’m starting school soon.”

Castiel smiled as he slipped on his glasses and Dean sighed softly at how hot he looked in them. “It would appear so. I can pull up the university’s website if you like and we can look at it together.”

He pulled the laptop to Dean’s lap from the table and booted it up, draping his arms around Dean to reach the keys, his chin resting on his shoulder. Dean sighed and leaned back against him as he searched the website for the computer science program. Castiel sat back and pressed a kiss to the back of Dean’s neck once he’d pulled it up, letting Dean take over to search as he wanted. 

He read through the computer science courses, which included several programming, embedded systems, operating systems, and a ton of other classes that he was unsure about based on the names. A total of 128 course credits would get him a Bachelor’s degree. Four years of fully loaded semesters.

“This seems like a lot,” Dean muttered, squinting at the screen.

“I believe you’re more than capable,” Castiel said confidently. “And the school is very good about offering tutors and outside help. My old company works closely with them, and we hire a lot of interns from there. Or if you were interested in going into something like electrical engineering, a place like Hoppmann would be a good fit.” He hummed, nipping playfully at Dean’s earlobe. “I’m sure I can think of all kinds of things to call you into my office to help with…”

Dean clicked his tongue and nudged Castiel with a small smile, a light blush on his cheeks. “Pervert,” he mumbled, but he was secretly very pleased. He’d had countless fantasies about Castiel and his office, which he’d actually never seen. Not all that surprising. Castiel still kept his personal life and his professional life completely separate. 

“I’m being very serious,” Castiel said in a  _ completely _ not-so-serious tone. “I’m in desperate need of a good assistant. Help keep my head on straight, fetch my coffee, keep my files in order…”

“Suck your dick under your desk,” Dean supplies helpfully, his smile widening.

“Well, that’s a given,” Castiel chuckled, pulling back the collar of Dean’s shirt to kiss his shoulder. “I’m just no good in the morning without my cup of coffee and that pretty mouth wrapped around me.”

“Weekdays must be hell for you, then,” Dean deadpanned, scanning over the room and board link on the website. He didn’t exactly relish in living on campus with dudes he didn’t know, but he didn’t foresee being able to get his coursework done while still living at home. John and Sam take up too much of his time.

“You have no idea,” Castiel sighed, once again resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder and blinking at the screen. “Would you want a roommate?”

“Not really,” Dean grunted. “But, y’know...I don’t think I can live at home if I do this.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, understanding Dean’s reasonings without the need for explanation. “I suppose you’re right. Still, I’m not sure you’d really enjoy the dormitory life. Or find it very conducive for your studies.”

“Well, I don’t have many options,” Dean shrugged and shivered slightly as Castiel’s stubble scratched his chin. “Poor boy and all that. And no,” he added when Castiel opened his mouth, “you are not renting me an apartment.”

Castiel shrugged. “You could always stay here.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over  _ realll _ well with John Winchester.”

“A fair point.”

Dean chuckled. “Y’know...Charlie may be interested in rooming with me off campus somewhere. I’m sure we could find something cheap, I could still work a couple nights a week at Bobby’s.”

“I think you’re severely underestimating your workload.”

“Never said it’d be easy.”

Castiel sighed. “Why don’t you just let me-”

“I want to do this on my own, Cas,” Dean insisted, shutting down the computer and pushing it down the couch so he could turn in Castiel’s arms. “You’ve already done enough. So much. And I appreciate it, but-”

“You don’t want to feel like it’s been handed to you.”

“Exactly.”

Castiel licked his lips and nodded, resting a hand on Dean’s cheek. “I understand.”

“If I really  _ can _ do it on my own, I want to prove it to myself. To everyone else, but mostly to myself. I want to make Sam proud, Dad proud...I want to make  _ you _ proud.”

Castiel smiled. “You do. And anyway, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Dean hummed and closed his eyes, nuzzling Castiel’s palm. “So…”

“So.”

“Where are you going for the fourth?”

Castiel sighed and hauled Dean up his body, seating him in his lap and wrapping his arms around his middle. “Cedar Bluff.”

“The lake?”

“The  _ reservoir.” _

Dean rolled his eyes. “Same thing.”

Castiel chuckled. “Yes, my family and I...we go every year.”

“Why?”

“Tradition. Dad started it when we were kids. It’s the one thing we all make sure we’re available for every year. We may be busy during birthdays and Christmases, but we always make it up to Cedar Bluff for the Fourth.”

Dean hummed and tickled at the hair on the back of Castiel’s neck. “Kind of an odd holiday to make such a big deal of. Usually it’s Christmas that families make such an effort to get together.”

“I suppose it does sound a bit strange,” Castiel shrugged. “But most of my siblings are married off, with the exception of myself and Anael. Christmas for them is usually spent with spouses and kids, and my parents usually go somewhere tropical to avoid the cold.”

“Hm,” Dean tilted his head and his eyes glossed over as he recalled distant memories. “My mom loved Christmas,” he spoke quietly. “I don’t remember much of her, y’know? But I remember our last Christmas with her. She decorated the whole house, made my dad put up all sorts of lights outside. We were one of those houses people intentionally drove by, to see all the lights. She was big on the Santa thing. I helped her bake cookies for him and she pretended not to notice when I ate some of the dough. And dad lifted me up so I can put the angel on top of the tree. Mom loved angels. Said they were watching over me.”

Castiel smiled warmly and cupped Dean’s cheek, stroking his smooth skin. “That sounds lovely,” he murmured.

“It...really was,” Dean leaned into the touch. “Nothin’ fancy. Never too much under the tree, but I always think of that as my favorite Christmas.”

“I can see why,” Castiel hummed and tilted his head. “I’m named after an angel, you know.”

Dean blinked. “Yeah?”

“Mmm,” Castiel nodded, eyebrows furrowing as he thought. “All of my siblings are, actually. Castiel isn’t very well-known, though. I looked him up once, long ago. From what I remember, his story was rather sad.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm. He was tasked with watching Earth, ordered not to interfere. The angel of solitude and tears.”

Dean frowned. “What happened to him?”

Castiel sighed and shook his head, thumbing distractedly at Dean’s bottom lip. “I don’t know. He was destined to be alone, I suppose...so depending on what you believe, he may still just be...there.”

It was unclear to Dean whether Castiel was drawing the parallel between himself and his namesake, but the realization made the story that much more upsetting. He wondered if Castiel thought that he was destined to be alone forever too, or if he’d only been alone up until this point because he couldn’t bear to put himself out there again.

Dean cleared his throat, laying his head down on Castiel’s chest. “You have other brothers and sisters?”

“Two brothers. Older. Both married, six kids between them. Four nieces, two nephews.” He settled back into the couch with a groan, wrapping his arms tighter around Dean’s middle. “It’ll be nice to see them.”

“No kids for you one day?”

Castiel snorted. “No. No, I don’t think so. Can’t imagine, uh...that kind of life. Not to mention, I’d have to make some major changes around here. At the very least buy some industrial locks.”

Dean couldn’t help but grin somewhat. “Yeah, never know what kids will poke their heads into.”

“Yes,” Castiel said dryly, giving Dean a pointed look. “I learned that the hard way a couple of years back.”

Dean cleared his throat and shrugged. “Sounds like the kid was just being curious.”

“ _ Nosey _ , more like.”

“ _ Bored _ .”

Castiel chuckled and grabbed Dean’s hand, kissing his palm. “And what about you? Do you want children?”

“Ah…” Dean frowned in thought and chewed his lip. “I really have no idea. Spent my childhood taking care of Sammy. I’m not sure I want to spend my adult life taking care of another kid.”

“Mm, yes, but it would be your own,” Castiel raised a brow.

“I guess,” Dean shrugged. “I dunno. I’m only eighteen, right? Kids, marriage...hasn’t really been on my mind. Besides, I think having a daughter would stress me the fuck out. Can you imagine letting her go on a date? When I  _ know _ what boys think about? Fuck that shit. She’s not dating until she’s 32.”

Castiel laughed softly and nodded. “Well, what if she wants to date a girl?”

Dean paused. “Still no. I know what girls think about, too. You should hear my friend Charlie.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you would be a very good father,” Castiel dropped Dean’s hand, letting it land on his chest, and Dean curled his fingers into his shirt. 

“I think you would, too,” Dean smiled. “Except you might spoil them.”

“Oh, they’d be rotten to the core. Much like you are now.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

Castiel groaned and tapped Dean on his shoulder. “I hate to make you move, but I really need to get some work done before five today. Give me a few hours?”

Dean grumbled but shifted off of Castiel, flopping back down into his spot when the man stood and straightened his clothes. “Any chance you’ll make it up to me by letting me sleep in your big comfy bed tonight?”

Castiel quirked a smile and tilted his head. “Nice try.”

Dean sighed, crossing his hands over his stomach and looking up at the ceiling. “Worth a shot.”

“Dean-”

“Oh, don’t get sappy. Go do your work.”

\----

“So where you headed after this?”

Sam hadn’t even so much as looked up from his phone since they got in the car, and Dean was reminded of just a mere three years ago when it was a Gameboy instead. Dean swatted his hand, knocking the phone into his lap, and Sam let out an indignant squawk before shooting him a dirty look and picking it back up.

“Look, you’re makin’ me take you all the way out here for this thing, least you can do is talk to me instead of staring at that damn phone.”

Even without looking Dean knew Sam rolled his eyes, but he slid the phone into his pocket anyway. “So where are you going?”

Dean shrugged. “Just over to Charlie’s. We’ve all been so busy with work that we haven’t really had the chance to catch up, and college starts soon and we’ll be busy then-”

“Gotcha.”

Dean tightened his hands on the wheel, hoping desperately that Sam wasn’t paying enough attention to him to recognize he was lying...which he was somehow always able to do. Sam just sat there looking out the window, fidgeting his hands in his lap.

“You gotta boyfriend or somethin’?”

“W- uh, what?”

“A  _ boyfriend _ ,” Sam repeated, unbothered. “You’ve been gone basically all summer, and you’ve barely said anything to me or dad about what you’re doing or who you’re with. I dunno. Just thought maybe you had a boyfriend and you were tryin’ to keep it from dad.”

Dean stared ahead at the road, drummed his fingers on the wheel, and finally spoke after a few minutes of silence. 

“He’s not a boyfriend,” he said carefully. “Just...someone I’m with. Someone I don’t have to hide who I am.”

“Kinda sounds like a boyfriend,” Sam muttered, glancing at Dean.

“Well, he’s not,” Dean said firmly, refusing to believe he had a lump in his throat as he said it. “And before you ask, I’m not telling you who it is. His privacy is important.”

“You don’t trust me to keep it quiet?” Sam frowned, sounding genuinely hurt by the thought. “I’ve kept your sexuality a secret. I swear, Dean, I haven’t said any-”

“I know, kid, I know,” Dean smiled at his brother. “Look, it ain’t about trust. It’s just...the less who know, the better. Our, uh, situation is...delicate. Let’s just say his professional life might suffer if word got out.”

“What?” Sam huffed, slightly defensive. “He ashamed of you or something? I’ll kick his ass.”

Dean barked a laugh and reached across the bench seat to nudge Sam’s shoulder with his fist. “That’s adorable.”

“I’m serious, Dean,” Sam pushed his hand away. “You shouldn’t be with someone who wouldn’t want to introduce you, or admit he’s with you. You’re worth more than that.”

Dean glanced at Sam and was surprised to see the look of utter sincerity on his younger brother’s face. He and Sam had their differences, but it was nice to know the kid cared. 

“It’s not like that, Sammy,” Dean said. “I know it may seem like that, but it’s not, okay? It’s hard to explain. One day you’ll get it, when I’m ready to tell you.”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but he just sighed and shook his head. “Okay. Sure.”

Dean stared pointedly at the road ahead for the rest of the drive, dropping him off with Jess and some of their friends at one of their houses. He waved as they all disappeared inside and pulled back out onto the road, looking forward to the quiet drive to Castiel’s.

The sun was beginning to set as he pulled into the drive, and he was surprised to find Anael’s car there instead of Castiel’s. She opened the front door as he pulled in, frantically waving him inside. 

Dean frowned and quickly got out of the car and jogged to the front door, allowing her to pull him inside and into the kitchen.

“We only have a few minutes. I sent him out to the store.”

Dean looked around with wide eyes, confusion etched on his face. “Does he...he knew I was coming, right?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Anael waved a hand, “of course. But listen. We’re going out of town next week-”

“I know.”

She paused and raised a brow. “He told you?”

Dean shrugged. “Said y’all go up to Cedar Bluff every fourth of July? Family tradition or whatever.”

“Oh.” She frowned, then shook her head. “Well, yeah. Yes. Anyway, I’m inviting you.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, shaking his head incredulously. “No, I...he...he didn’t say anything about me coming with him. I don’t think he-”

“Oh, he doesn’t know what he wants,” Anael waved a hand again. “I want you to come. He’ll want you to be there. He may not say it or ask you to come but trust me...you need to.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

Anael sighed, looking over his shoulder out the window. “Look. You two have been at this for, what? Six months? Little longer? I know him, and I know how he works. I know he’s probably told you next to nothing about himself, and the most you probably  _ have  _ gotten out of him is when he’s drinking.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“I know more about his relationships, probably more than he thinks I do. I know about his hangups.” She paused, giving Dean an apologetic look. “And I know why he chose you.”

Dean faltered. “But he...he said-”

“I can imagine what he said, but it’s not the truth. Or at least, not all of it.”

“I don’t understand how coming with your family on this vacation that he obviously doesn’t want me on will help.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“I...I can’t explain  _ how  _ or  _ why.  _ But I promise you, if you come with us, you’ll understand. Just...please. Say you can come. Say you  _ will  _ come.” Anael took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she let it out slowly. “Dean, I just...I have a feeling. I know my brother. I  _ love  _ my brother. But he’s got his issues, biggest one being how he likes to shut people out. Surely you know about that.”

Dean shifted on his feet, looking away.

“You’re gonna have to push him. Just a little bit. And I’ll help.” She caught his gaze and nodded. “Cause, you know, he’s never gonna...he can’t  _ fly  _ without a little push first. I need you to help me with this. If you care about him like I think you do-”

Dean looked down again, ears burning.

“...love him like I think you do-”

He looked up again, eyes searching her face.

She nodded slowly. “He needs you to be there. Just trust me. Please.”

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then nodded with a resigned shrug of his shoulders. “Fine,” he said. “But when this inevitably blows up in my face, I’m blaming you.”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” Anael crossed her arms over her chest and Dean shrugged, glancing out the window. 

“Not really,” he said wearily. “I’ve tried to talk to him about real things. Tried to be...well, more than a Sub. Conversation always ended sour and I think I almost lost him. It may not be all of what I want from him, but I’ll take what I can get. I just don’t want this little scheme of yours to ruin...whatever me and him have.”

“It won’t,” Anael promised. “I wouldn’t do this unless I knew with certainty it would only help you two.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” 

Dean grabbed a drink from the fridge just as Castiel pulled up. He popped the top of his Pepsi, something Castiel only kept around for him, and met him in the doorway as Castiel walked in, plastic bag in hand and a rather grumpy look on his face.

“Anael, there is no such thing as  _ Intense Flow _ , that was entirely inappro- oh, hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean grinned, glancing at the bag then at Anael. “What did you make him go get?”

“Tampons,” Anael smirked, grabbing the bag from her brother and pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, bro. I owe you one.”

Castiel grumbled as she flounced off and turned to Dean, his frown morphing into a brief smile. “Sweet boy,” he cooed, drawing Dean into his arms who went willingly and sunk into the embrace. “You’re early.”

“I know,” Dean said apologetically, though he wasn’t all that sorry. “Dropped Sammy off and came straight here.”

“Have you eaten?” Castiel asked, knowing the answer.

“No,” Dean smiled up at him. “Feed me.”

“Demanding brat.”

“You like it,” Dean murmured, pressing closer, his hands slipping around Castiel’s waist. 

Castiel backed him up against the counter and lifted him easily into his spot, lifting his head to call out for Anael.

“Yeah, I get it!” she called back, voice muffled from upstairs. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Dean huffed and Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“Anyway,” he said, stroking Dean’s cheekbones with his thumbs, “I made a roast earlier. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

Castiel quirked a smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead before crossing over to the fridge and pulling out the leftovers. He placed a generous amount of meat, potatoes, carrots, and celery on a plate and heated it up, and he grabbed a fork on his way back over, taking his place between Dean’s legs.

Castiel gave him a bite of meat and carrot and Dean sighed as he chewed. Castiel took another step, pressing himself as close to him as he could, and Dean habitually wrapped his legs around his waist. He moaned around the next bite, opening his eyes after to find Castiel’s pupils dilated, lips parted.

“You okay, daddy?” he asked innocently, tilting his head.

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Castiel breathed, shaking his head. He looked down and speared a potato, lifting it to Dean’s lips. Dean very purposefully opened his mouth wide, wrapping his lips around the fork to slide the morsel inside. Castiel’s breath hitched and he grabbed Dean’s chin roughly, his lips only inches from Dean’s. “You’re a teasing little  _ shit _ , boy.”

Dean resumed chewing and grinned, rubbing his chin when Castiel finally let go. “I think I could use a good fucking, daddy.” He took Castiel’s hand, pressing it to his already hard cock. “So empty it hurts. Need you to fill me up.”

“You haven’t eaten yet,” Castiel said, pulling his hand away and spearing a piece of roast. Dean sucked it into his mouth and chewed slowly, looking down at his Dom’s cock that was clearly outlined through his slacks. Fuck, Castiel was big. Dean still hadn’t gotten over how thick he was, how long and utterly  _ perfect _ . It was no wonder Dean practically begged for it at every scene. Sometimes he was rewarded and sometimes he wasn’t, but it was becoming less frequent that Castiel chose not to fuck him. Dean had a feeling Castiel was addicted to it just as much as he was. 

The times he  _ was _ able to hold out, though...they were fucking torturous.

“We can eat after,” Dean said, taking in another bite of potato. 

“No,” Castiel said firmly. “We aren’t in any hurry, are we? Got somewhere else you want to be, boy?” 

Dean swallowed and shook his head, chastised. “No, daddy.  Wanna be right here.” 

“Good,” Castiel nodded, holding roast up to Dean’s lips. “Then behave. And I’ll give you that good fuck you’re looking for.” 

Dean took another bite, chewing slowly and daring to reach out and hold Castiel's waist. Castiel fed him slowly, teasingly, and Dean teased him right back, occasionally grinding himself against the man’s crotch. 

“Alright, I’m outta here!” Anael called from the hall, not sparing them a second glance as she passed by the doorway on her way to the front door. 

“What time will you be home?” Castiel asked casually, without even looking away from the forkful of carrot and meat he was feeding Dean.

Anael didn’t respond, instead stepping outside, car keys jingling, and pulling the door closed behind her.

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head.

Dean frowned. “What?”

“I think she’s... _ seeing _ someone,” Castiel said, wrinkling his nose. “She’s acting strange. Spending less and less time here, cancelling our plans. She’s dismissive if I ask her about it. Acts like it’s none of my business.”

“Well,” Dean paused when Castiel raised a disapproving brow, chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “That’s kinda true, Cas.”

Castiel huffed. “I’m well within my rights to know who my little sister is spending her time with. And  _ you’re  _ breaking character, boy.”

Dean suppressed a smile and flexed his hands on Castiel’s waist. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” he said innocently, hanging his head and looking up at him through his lashes. “But maybe...maybe Ana doesn’t want her older brother making the person she likes uncomfortable. You’re... _ really  _ intimidating sometimes, daddy.”

Castiel paused with the fork raised, then lowered it back to the plate, frowning. “Do you think she’s afraid I’ll- for lack of a better word-  _ scare _ them away?”

“I think that if you even somewhat suspect they’re not good enough- and I think you will- then you won’t be able to keep yourself from saying so.”

“Well,” Castiel huffed, setting the plate down and placing his hands on his hips, looking thoroughly cranky. “Most people out there  _ aren’t _ good enough for her.”

“I’m just saying, daddy,” Dean said soothingly, wrapping his legs around Castiel’s waist to tug him closer. “You can be a little...critical of people who are involved with someone you care about.”

Castiel eyed him for a long minute then sighed, shoulders sagging. “Is that such a bad thing?” he muttered, running a finger up Dean’s thigh. 

Dean smiled and grabbed the finger, pulling it to his lips, kissing the knuckle. “No, but it may cause some hesitation on introducing you to whoever has grabbed her attention. Like I said, you’re intimidating.”

Castiel chewed on his lip, eyes flicking down and darkening just a little as Dean’s tongue poked at his finger. “Did I intimidate you?”

“You scared the crap outta me,” Dean answered honestly. “I mean, you still do, but it’s hot, so…” he shrugged and grinned. 

Castiel frowned slightly and shifted on his feet. “I’m not sure how to feel about that. I never wanted to scare you.”

“It’s not, like, in a bad way…” Dean licked his lips and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck. “Come on, you must be somewhat aware of the effect you have on people. Why do you think I’m so comfortable with calling you ‘daddy’? You’re just so... _ Dom _ . It’s a vibe people pick up on.”

“I don’t necessarily... _ feel _ intimidating. Not outside of-” he gestured between them, “this, anyway.”

“Obviously it’s not a conscious decision, but whether you realize it or not,” Dean shrugged and nodded, “yeah. You’re the kind of person people sit up and take notice of when you walk in the door, you know? You have...a  _ presence _ .”

Castiel’s mouth quirked in the corner. “A presence, huh?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright...don’t let it go to your head.”

Castiel smirked and wordlessly fed Dean the rest of the roast, reluctantly pulling away to rinse the plate and put it in the dishwasher. He hesitated before helping Dean off the counter, tracing his lips lightly with a finger, the small uptick in his brow the only indication that he was planning  _ something... _ a nuance in his expression that Dean had only picked up after so much time of just  _ studying _ the man. He didn’t dare ask, only followed Castiel out of the room by way of a silent understanding when Castiel inclined his head toward the door. 

He followed Castiel up the stairs, but instead of continuing to the end of the hall to the playroom, Castiel entered his study, motioning Dean inside and closing the door behind him. Dean felt weirdly out of his element here, and he fidgeted shifted from foot to foot as he watched Castiel light a cigarette and sit down in his chair. The cigarette dangled between two fingers as he laid his arms on the rests and leaned back in his seat. 

“Regrettably, I have some work I need to do today,” Castiel sighed, leaning forward to retrieve his glasses from his desk and push them onto his nose. 

“...oh.” Dean’s heart sank, and he hung his head slightly. Castiel was the one who planned their visits, who told him where to be and when to be there. He could’ve easily canceled or pushed back their meeting if he’d known he had work to do. Dean tried not to be disappointed or angry by it, because surely as busy as Castiel was, as important as he was, things would arise that were  out of his control.

“However, I’d like you to stay and keep me company.”

Dean’s head snapped up. Castiel motioned him forward.

“On your knees, boy.”

Dean obliged, looking up at Castiel as he leaned forward to run a hand through his hair, taking a long drag of his cigarette. 

“Are you familiar, Dean, with the theories of Sigmund Freud?” he asked, smoke billowing out of his nose and mouth as he spoke. 

“It...he sounds familiar,” Dean said dumbly, too distracted by Castiel’s touch to much care about a psychology lesson.

Castiel hummed thoughtfully. “To be honest, I find most of his beliefs to be...well, frankly, a bit ignorant.” He chuckled, taking another drag from his cigarette. “But! I do feel that he had...pieces right. For example, his belief of oral fixation.” Castiel traced Dean’s lips again with a finger, finally hooking it just inside and pulling slightly. “He believed it’s possible for a person to become… ‘stuck’ on a particular stage of development, perhaps from overstimulation or lack of stimulation in that stage. Take, for example, the oral stage...the first stage humans supposedly go through from birth until roughly two years of age. Most babies are breastfed, helping to establish what will be hopefully healthy oral development. But say, a baby is breastfed for too long, or perhaps not long enough. Freud believed it would cause a fixation in later years. He believed it was why some children sucked their thumbs, or adults smoked, or bit their nails, or drank. A sort of...overcompensation for over or understimulation.”

Dean swallowed hard. Castiel started speaking again before he had the chance to decide whether or not he wanted to comment on it.

“Now, I don’t know what your habits were as an infant, nor do I care to. I also don’t know if you were a thumbsucker as a child, and you may also keep that information to yourself. But-” he quirked a smile, sliding his finger over Dean’s tongue, “I’ve noticed certain things, in our time together. Things that- if one were to believe in Freud’s theory- might be considered an adult oral fixation.”

Dean blinked up at him and clamped his teeth around Castiel’s finger, further emphasizing the man’s point. He waited for Castiel to explain why he was telling Dean all of this, what the point of this lecture was, but of course Castiel didn’t elaborate. Instead he pushed his chair back a bit and spreads his legs, a clear invitation that Dean understood perfectly. He crawled under Castiel’s desk, not at all surprised to find a large fluffy pillow waiting for him. He settled on it and sighed when Castiel’s legs closed around him, Castiel’s hand still in his hair and stroking softly, remaining contact between them. 

“In your mouth, boy.”

Dean heard the command loud and clear and reached forward, unzipping Castiel’s slacks and gently pulling out his flaccid cock. He whined softly and opened wide, taking it inside as Castiel spread his legs a little wider to give him room. Dean sighed and licked at the head, giving a gentle suck-

“Ah ah,” Castiel tightened his grip on Dean’s hair in warning. “None of that. I have work to do, remember? I can’t have any distractions. Hold me in your mouth, keep me nice and warm. No sucking.”

Dean blinked, confused, and waited for Castiel to give him further instruction. Or maybe to say ‘gotcha’ and fuck his mouth like he knows he wants to. But the sound of fingers clicking against the keyboard reached Dean’s ears and he realized Castiel was being completely serious. Dean held himself still for a moment, unsure of what to do with himself, then decided he might as well get comfortable. He shifted carefully, keeping Castiel inside, and laid his cheek against a thick thigh. 

It was an odd sensation, but not entirely unwelcome. Castiel’s skilled fingers in his hair, stroking and massaging continuously, his thick girth a solid weight on his tongue, those strong legs caged around him. The urge to suck and lick was strong, but Dean pushed it away, only swallowing around Castiel’s cock occasionally to get rid of the pooling saliva. The pillow was soft against his knees and Castiel’s thigh made the perfect cushion for his head, and Dean found himself drifting in and out. With nothing else to do, Dean could focus on the moment,  on the man petting him so lovingly, on the warmth slowly filling him up. He couldn’t explain why, but whatever they were doing was strangely relaxing and arousing all at once. Dean would have been surprised by the tightening in his jeans a few months ago, but nowadays he just rolled with it. Castiel tended to have some strange sixth sense about what would make Dean all hot and bothered, and he rarely questioned it anymore. 

Dean swallowed again and held his breath when Castiel’s cock gave a small twitch, but the man continued stroking his hair as he typed away. Dean exhaled and closed his eyes, leaning heavily against Castiel’s legs and wrapping his arm around one. It occurred to him in his increasingly sluggish mind that this might be the most submissive thing he’s done. Even with their previous scenes, despite all the humiliating and at times degrading things Castiel puts him through, he was still in some control over the situation. Held some sort of power. In this situation he had virtually nothing, his mouth used as a cock warmer for Castiel while he sat on a pillow at his feet like a pet. Not ignored, per se, but kept silent and obedient by the soothing albeit controlling hand in his hair. Not even allowed to pleasure his Dom, only allowed to keep him warm and wet, cushioned on his ever-eager tongue.

Dean wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, and in fact he’d dozed off when Castiel finally pushed his chair out slightly, jolting Dean awake. Castiel smiled down at him, stroking his jaw as he pulled his cock out of his mouth and teased Dean’s lips with the head. 

“Can I suck now, daddy?” Dean asked innocently, looking up at him through his lashes.

Castiel hummed. “You  _ were  _ awfully good. I suppose that deserves a reward.” He removed his glasses and tossed them onto his desk, reaching for his pack of cigarettes and lighter. “Yes, baby, you may.”

He lit his cigarette as Dean took him in his mouth again, acutely and suddenly aware that Castiel had once again broken another of his rules, but he supposed it didn’t matter so much after the man had already come inside him before. Dean hadn’t, however, been given the opportunity to taste him yet, and it turns out he wouldn’t this time either. As soon as he was hard in Dean’s mouth Castiel stopped him, standing and pulling Dean up too by the collar of his shirt.

He pushed him back against the desk, cigarette hanging between his lips as he unbuckled Dean’s belt and unzipped his pants, pushing them down to his ankles. He pulled Dean’s shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, running a hand down his chest as he pulled the cigarette from between his lips and ashed it in tray on the corner of his desk.

“Turn around.”

Dean obliged, hearing Castiel take a drag of his cigarette from behind him as he opened one of his desk drawers, the cap to a bottle of lube popping seconds later. Dean jumped and shivered as Castiel squirted some down his crack, tossing the bottle onto the desk before smoothing the liquid over Dean’s eagerly clenching hole.

Dean carefully pushed Castiel’s laptop and a few other things on his desk to the side so he could lean over it and give Castiel better access. He moaned when Castiel pushed the first finger inside.

“Always so ready for this, aren’t you, baby?” Castiel asked, and Dean could tell by the way he was talking that he still had the cigarette between his lips, which shouldn’t have been as hot as Dean found it. “Definitely daddy’s boy, hmm?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” Dean gasped, fingers curling into the hard, cool surface of the desk as Castiel teased his hole. “Want you all the time. So empty without your cock.”

Castiel hummed and seconds later he had his free hand reaching around, pressing his fingers to Dean’s mouth. Dean immediately opened up and sucked them inside, moaning around them loudly. Fingers were not as thick and long as that amazing dick between Castiel’s legs, but it was still a piece of him and Dean was starting to think Castiel was onto something about oral fixation. 

Castiel suddenly pulled his fingers free and pushed at the back of Dean’s head, forcing him down onto the desk and lifting his ass into the air. Dean moaned and bucked, his cock leaking drops of pre-cum onto the floor. Castiel slapped a cheek, uttering a dark ‘be still’, and spread both cheeks apart as he sat back down in his chair. Dean tried not to squirm as Castiel moved the finger inside him in a circular motion then gasped when he felt something wet and warm on his rim.

“D-daddy!” Dean thrust his ass back and flushed a bright red when he heard Castiel chuckle.

“Sorry, sweet boy, I couldn’t resist this pretty little pink hole,” he murmured, cigarette dangling from his other hand before he snuffed it out in the tray. “Love the way it twitches. So eager for me.”

Dean jerked when Castiel’s teeth scraped against his cheek, and the man chuckled again before pushing two fingers back inside him. Dean moaned and dropped his forehead to the desk with a  _ thunk _ , panting heavily as Castiel worked to open him up. 

He was sweating by the time he heard Castiel stand and slick his cock, and his breath caught in his throat when he withdrew his fingers and pressed the head of his cock to Dean’s rim.

“Stretch yourself out, baby, and hold the edge of the desk,” Castiel instructed, pushing him down against the wood. “That’s it, now spread your legs wide, open up for me…”

Dean did as he was told, and he cried out loudly when Castiel unceremoniously buried himself inside him, fingers roughly pressing into Dean’s hips as he circled his own against his backside. He paused after that, panting loudly, giving Dean time to adjust to his size, which he was fairly certain he’d never get used to.

“ _ Breed me, daddy _ ,” Dean breathed, attempting to push back further on his cock. “Fill me up, daddy, please…”

Castiel groaned and moved his hands up and down Dean’s body, obviously appreciating the view. He pulled out slowly and thrust back inside hard, over and over. Dean cried out each time. 

“You look so fucking beautiful, sweet boy,” Castiel managed through clenched teeth. “This tight little hole was made for me. You were just made to take daddy’s load, weren’t you, baby?”

_ Jesus _ . Dean felt his whole face heat up and his heart skip, suddenly aware that Castiel again hadn’t put on a condom. The thought brought him that much closer, his balls tightening and his hole clenching around the girth pounding into him. He couldn’t wait to feel that warmth spread inside him, couldn’t wait to get daddy’s hot load-

“Not yet, boy,” Castiel panted into his ear, stilling his hips, grabbing the base of Dean’s cock tightly and squeezing. “I didn’t say you could come yet.”

Dean clawed at the desk and squirmed, his orgasm throbbing, unable to release. He should be used to this by now, but every time was torture. Exquisite torture. But if he could hold it off just long enough, it’d be worth it just to feel Castiel release inside and fill him up. It was something he’d felt only once before and had desperately hoped he would feel again. 

“Daddy,” Dean whined, thrusting his ass up as Castiel pulled out, choking when he buried himself again and hit his prostate head on. “D-daddy, please-”

“That’s right, boy, beg me,” Castiel bent, mouthing at his neck and biting down on the skin. “Tell me how much you want it. You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart for me.”

“Fuck, daddy, please,” Dean groaned, his sweaty skin sliding against the wood of the desk. “Need to feel it, want you to fill me up, get it in deep, daddy, please…”

Castiel growled and snapped his hips for a bruising force, a few items falling off the desk and onto the floor, and neither of them giving a damn.

“Fuckfuck,” Dean sobbed, each thrust pressing his painfully hard cock up against the edge of the desk. “N-need to come, daddy,  _ please _ let me-”

Castiel straightened again and held the back of Dean’s head, pressing his cheek hard against the desk. A hard slap came down on his backside and Dean yelped, holding the edge of the desk so tightly his fingers ached.

“Daddy-”

“Don’t wanna hear ugly words like those come out of such a pretty mouth,” Castiel said menacingly, tugging on Dean’s hair to pull him back up against him. He looped an arm around Dean’s torso and up, squeezing lightly at the base of his throat. He carefully adjusted Dean’s cock so that it rested on top of the desk, grabbing his hip again to resume his brutal pace. Dean was practically on the tips of his toes as Castiel rocked into him, the hand on his throat putting just enough pressure to make him feel restricted. It was carnal and rough and intimate and  _ so fucking hot. _

He sobbed loudly, letting his head fall back against Castiel’s shoulder. “Daddy, please…” he begged, uncaring of his repetition. “All yours, daddy. Breed your boy…”

Castiel bucked into him almost recklessly before his hips finally stilled and Dean felt his warmth filling him, his cock pulsing deep inside him. He mouthed at the back of Dean’s neck, and Dean shivered at his hot breath against the sweat on his skin.

Castiel let the base of his cock go and Dean’s orgasm punched out of him seconds later, splattering across the desk as he cried out. His legs trembled, but Castiel held him up as he rode it out. He then slumped forward, panting into the wood, eyes glazed as he stared ahead at the wall. His hole occasionally twitched around the cock still buried inside and he swore he could feel more of Castiel’s release trickle out, but it was impossible to tell.

Castiel didn’t pull out, however, and instead fell back into the chair, bringing Dean with him carefully so that he stayed buried inside. Dean went bonelessly, grunting as he settled into Castiel’s lap and let his head fall back on the man’s shoulder. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and mouthed at his neck, his jaw, kissing his cheek and shoulder. 

“Perfect, sweet boy,” Castiel praised, stroking a hand up and down Dean’s stomach. “You take daddy’s cock so well, don’t you?”

Dean didn’t even have the energy to blush or nod; he simply groaned and closed his eyes, the sweat on his skin beginning to cool.

“Ah,” Castiel continued. “But you made a mess.” He clicked his tongue and Dean cracked open an eye, glancing at the smear of cum across Castiel’s desk. He really had made a mess. It was everywhere. A few drops had even landed on some important-looking documents.

“C-couldn’t help it,” Dean mumbled, squirming in Castiel’s lap and blushing at the feel of him still inside. “You felt so good.”

Castiel hummed and bumped his head against Dean’s, struggling to catch his breath. He slid his hands up and back down Dean’s torso, then down to his thighs, tapping them gently. 

“Now I want you to clean your mess.”

Dean frowned. “Um…”

“I want you to clean your mess...with your tongue.”

Dean hesitated, torn between wanting to please Castiel and wanting to keep him seated firmly inside. “But daddy-”

Castiel popped him gently on his cheek before Dean had the chance to react, and he whined as his own cock gave a twitch.

“Do as you’re told. And make a show of it, while you’re at it.”

Now  _ that  _ Dean could do. He winced slightly as he stood and Castiel slipped out, clenching his hole tightly. He leaned forward, over the desk, pushing his ass back toward Castiel. He felt Castiel’s fingertips on the back of his thighs, heard his sharp intake of breath, and he shuddered when Castiel pulled his ass cheeks apart and prodded gently at his hole.

“That’s it baby,” Castiel urged, “use your tongue.”

Dean began to lap the mess up off the desk, grimacing slightly at the taste of himself but reminding himself that pleasing Castiel made it worth it. Meanwhile Castiel massaged his ass and pressed a fingertip barely inside, giving a pleased hum every so often.

“Unclench, sweet boy,” he ordered, “let daddy’s come leak out. Oh, that’s it. That’s beautiful, baby.  _ Jesus.” _

Dean groaned, loose and sated.

“Now I want to taste you.”

_ Ohhh. _

Dean lapped up a few drops of his come and turned, seating himself back in Castiel’s lap. Without a second thought he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and leaned in, and Castiel pulled him in by the back of his head, pressing their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues mingled, Dean’s release exchanged between them, and Castiel moaned into his mouth.

It was dirty, erotic, and so fucking hot Dean could feel himself slowly hardening again. He knew he mostly had his young libido to thank for that, but he was pretty sure Castiel had a lot to do with it too. He tried to focus on their cum slicked tongues mingling, on the sound and feel of Castiel swallowing, on how they’ve yet again broken another one of Castiel’s big rules. Two of them, actually. 

Not that Dean was complaining.

When they broke apart, Dean was breathing hard and his mouth hung open. Castiel panted, tracing his parted lips reverently, eyes hooded. 

“You taste a little sweeter than I was expecting,” Castiel murmured, licking his lips.

Dean huffed a weak laugh, nipping at Castiel’s fingers. “What are you? A cum connoisseur?” 

“Not particularly,” Castiel chuckled, letting Dean bite at his thumb and suck on the tip, watching with a mixture of amusement and fondness. “But I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. You are my  _ sweet _ boy.”

Dea blinked then shook his head with a small groan. “That was such a dad joke, Cas.”

Castiel blinked then smiled. “I  _ am _ your dadd-”

“Don’t say it,” Dean grinned and pressed his fingers to Castiel’s lips. “I dunno how you can be so fucking Dom one second and such a nerd the next.”

Castiel’s eyes twinkled mischievously and he nipped at Dean’s fingers. Dean pulled them away with a chuckle and sighed, wrapping his arms back around Castiel’s neck.

“I like it when you break your rules,” Dean murmured, tugging idly at Castiel’s collar. It was equal parts hot and frustrating that Castiel often fucked him while still fully clothed, but he supposed that was mostly due to the vulnerability aspect that being nude usually caused.

“Oh?”

Dean hummed and nodded, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. “I...I know you don’t like doing it, but-”

“The rules are in place for a reason,” Castiel said bluntly.

Dean’s face reddened. “I know, but-”

“But I seem to have a particular knack for breaking them...for you.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t mind-”

“Why is that?”

Dean’s head snapped up and he furrowed his brow. “I’m...I-”

“Why is it that I make very specific rules to adhere to- that I’m perhaps _ most  _ proud of my usual self control- and yet I can’t seem to follow my own rules when it comes to you?” He asked the question, but wasn’t looking at Dean. In fact, it seemed like he was mostly asking himself.

“I don’t know, daddy. I’m sorry.”

“‘Those looks you give are going to get you into trouble’, I said,” Castiel recited, frowning at a random focal point across the room. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, bright blue eyes looking back up at Dean. “Such naivety. I had no idea that  _ I’d _ be the one in trouble.”

Dean blushed and looked down between them.

“We’ll just have to be more careful, won’t we?” Castiel said, light-heartedly tapping Dean on his thigh. “We’ll need to stop indulging ourselves.”

“Well, I-”

“Up now,” Castiel said, and it was unclear if he thought the conversation was over or if he was trying to change the subject quickly. Probably both. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have good news and bad news.
> 
> The good news is: you get a new chapter today, and you actually get some questions answered. 
> 
> Bad news: We've now caught up on all the previously edited chapters, and so we're not sure how long it'll take to get another one up. We'll work diligently for you, however, between writing for other projects.

“Ana, I’m really not sure about this.”

She sighed for probably the hundredth time and turned to him, hands on her hips, looking very much like her older brother.

“Look, hun,” she started patiently. “You’ve already told your dad and brother that you’re going to be gone for a week. We’re here, we’re checked in, he’s on his way. There’s really no backing out of this now.”

Dean knew this, but he couldn’t help the anxious clenching of his gut. He’d managed to explain away this impromptu vacation to his dad, mostly from just outright lying his ass off and Sammy totally backing him up. He’d told John that he had decided to go to college, mumbling something about financial aid and some small scholarships. While his dad had been mostly pleased to hear it, Dean could tell John was apprehensive. Probably thought Dean wasn’t serious enough to stick to it, and hell, he might be right. But Dean was determined to try. And it provided a perfect excuse to take a vacation before the semester started, the last hoorah before he had to buckle down. He also may have lied and told his dad Charlie and Benny were joining him, just a group of friends having fun, and had subsequently warned said friends to keep their heads low for the week. Charlie had given him a shit eating grin while Benny had just shrugged and nodded.

None of that helped with Castiel, though, who still didn’t know he was going to be here. Anael had picked Dean up just before sunrise from Charlie’s and they drove the four hours to Cedar Bluff, checking into a small but clean motel just off the lake until their lakehouse check-in later that day. If Dean knew Castiel, and he felt like he did, the man was going to react one of two ways: either with outright anger, or broody quietness. Both of which Dean absolutely hated.

“Ana,” he said desperately, “I really don’t want to upset him. I agreed to this and I’m here, but- if this turns sour, I don’t think I- he might-” Dean’s throat closed up and he looked away, unwilling to admit how much making Castiel angry or disappointed twisted him up inside.

“Look, this will be good for him,” Anael insisted. “Whether he realizes it or not. Sometimes you gotta crack a few eggs, Dean.”

“Yeah, I get that, but,” Dean paused, “he...he didn’t invite me. And he’s awfully private about his personal life, and I just feel like I’m definitely crossing a line here-”

“I _invited_ you,” Anael insisted, looping her arm through his. “Will he be upset at first? Probably.”

Dean blanched, his mouth dropping open as he looked over at her.

She giggled gleefully. “But! He will be fine. I promise. He wants you here, trust me.”

“And did he tell you that?”

Anael hesitated. “Well...no. But he does. I know he does. I know him better than he knows himself sometimes.”

Dean’s stomach clenched at the thought of seeing Castiel and he hid his face in his hands. “Oh no…”

“What did you tell him you were gonna be doing this week, anyway?” Anael asked, texting something on her phone. She tossed it back onto the bed and looked at him expectantly, raising a brow.

Dean sighed. “Just that I was working...I dunno. He didn’t really ask. Which is...weird, now that I think about it. He’s usually pretty-”

“Insufferably neurotic?” Anael rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yeah, he gets out of sorts this time of year, every year. He’ll be back to his normal self when he gets back home.”

Dean sighed again and flopped back onto the bed. He wanted to ask Anael more about Castiel, given he’d only had a few hours alone with her in the car for the drive and he’d been too tired to really talk for about half of it. But he also felt like talking about Castiel- intensely _private_ Castiel- with his sister was a gross invasion of his privacy and he felt extremely guilty about it, on top of showing up somewhere Castiel likely didn’t want him.

“Anael-”

Her phone chimed and she grabbed it, quickly reading over a text. “He’s here.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat and his breath hitched as a knock came at the door, and he shot up on the bed as Anael jumped up to get it. She paused and looked back at Dean, indicating for him to take a deep breath, which he obliged.

“It’s gonna be fine,” she whispered, then went to the door, taking a deep breath herself and pulling it open.

“This place really never gets-”

Castiel froze with a foot inside the door, looking confusedly between Anael and Dean.

“Dean?” He dropped his bag off to the side, gazing at Dean for a long time before finally looking back at Anael, eyebrow raised. “What’s going on here?”

Anael smiled a little too brightly at him, gesturing nervously over at Dean. “I invited Dean to stay with us this year.” She paused, fidgeting when Castiel said nothing right away, his expression carefully neutral. “Surprise!”

Castiel huffed a laugh, composing himself quickly when he realized Anael wasn’t joking.

“Anael, our…” he lowered his voice, tone bordering on menacing, “ _our family will be here_.”

“Oh, they don’t care who it is you’re seeing Castiel,” Anael waved a dismissive hand. “They probably won’t even notice his age-”

“That’s not the _point_ -”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, quickly standing and taking a step toward him, “I tried to tell her it was a bad idea-”

“ _Sit-”_ Castiel said through clenched teeth, pointing at Dean, his gaze following a second later, hard and cold, “ _down.”_

“I made him come with me,” Anael said, not the least bit bothered by Castiel’s anger. “So get over it. He can be here as _my_ guest.”

“Anael-”

“I know you want him here!” she blurted, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the room when Castiel didn’t respond immediately. “You can act mad about it all you want, but I know you want him here, and I know him being here will make things easier for you. So be mad at me all you want, but don’t take it out on _him._ ” She grabbed her suitcase with a huff and plucked the hotel key out of Castiel’s hand. “Now I’m going to head to your room, and you two can stay in here. And I’ll see you both at brunch with everyone else tomorrow.” She pointed a finger into Castiel’s face, clenching her jaw. “I _mean_ it. Lose the attitude.”

She was gone before Dean could protest, and he looked pointedly at the floor as awkward silence fell over the room. It felt like several minutes before Castiel sighed and crossed over to the bed, taking a seat beside him.

“Working all week, huh?” he said softly, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell y-”

“Where does your father think you are?”

Dean scratched his fingernails over his jeans. “With Charlie and Benny. One last shebang before school.”

“You lied.”

Dean looked up at him. “I had to.”

“This puts me in a very uncomfortable situation, Dean. I can’t imagine- if you were to lie to _me_ about your whereabouts, and then get hurt-”

“Well, technically I _did_ -”

Castiel’s hard stare shut him up immediately. “This is not a _game_ , Dean.”

Dean held his hands out. “Does it look like I’m havin’ fun?”

“It looks like you’re entirely too smug about the fact that you lied to both me and your father. If I’m being honest, it makes me want to punish you.”

Dean’s dick absolutely does _not_ twitch in his pants. He puts it on heavy, hanging his head, voice cracking. “If that’s what you think I deserve, daddy.”

It took a long time for Castiel to break, long agonizing seconds. “I apologize, Dean. I just...wasn’t expecting you here, is all. Of course I’m...I’m glad that you’re here. Just, um. ‘S not easy for me. So...be patient with me. Please.”

“Of course, Cas,” Dean said softly, relieved, his gut unclenching. He reached for Castiel’s hand and smiled briefly when Castiel wrapped those long fingers around his. “Just, um, maybe...don’t snap at me too much?”

Castiel snorted a humorless laugh and nodded. “I’ll try to keep myself in check.”

“Anything I can do for you now?” Dean asked, ready to jump at the chance to put Castiel at ease, even if it was for a little while.

“Probably not,” Castiel sighed tiredly and Dean finally noticed the bags under his eyes, more prominent than usual. “I was just going to take a shower. Forgot to do so before I left.”

“Would you...like some company?” Dean bit his lip, looking at him through his eyelashes. “I mean, we don’t have to _do_ anything. Just figured...I could, like, wash your back or somethin’.”

Castiel quirked a smile before it disappeared, but he nodded mutely and pulled at Dean’s hand as he stood. Dean allowed himself to be dragged into the bathroom, modest compared to Castiel’s back at home, but still nicer than what Dean was generally used to. He swatted Castiel’s hands away when he started undoing his tie, taking over the job of undressing him as Castiel stood silently, watching him intently. Dean tried not to let the stare get to him, pushing off his shirt and kneeling to remove his slacks and underwear. It was a strange reversal in their relationship, Dean taking care of him instead, but one that felt necessary at the moment. Dean even got the water going and let Castiel under the spray first, quickly undressing and following him inside.

Dean wordlessly grabbed the bodywash provided by the hotel and was a little surprised Castiel didn’t say anything about it, but the man seemed to be zoning out, staring blankly at the tiles on the wall. Dean bit his lip and lathered up his hands then began massaging Castiel’s tense back, working from top to bottom slowly.

“How…” Castiel coughed, clearing his dry throat, and tried again. “How was the drive?”

Dean glanced up and shrugged. “Quiet. Was, uh, asleep most of the time.”

“She woke you up early.”

“She wanted to beat you here.”

“Of course she did.”

Dean worked the lather into Castiel’s skin, focusing hard on the task instead of the awkwardness of the situation. Castiel’s muscles untensed gradually under Dean’s fingers and he pulled the man into the spray when he was done, rinsing the soap dutifully from his back before starting on his front.

“Looks like we _are_ getting that vacation after all,” Dean said with a small smile, hoping the positivity would cheer Castiel up a bit. It only garnered a small smile.

“Indeed.”

Dean looked down at Castiel’s chest as he moved his hands over his skin, silently admiring his dark chest hair that, in his opinion, he didn’t get to see nearly enough of.

“Look, Cas,” Dean said finally, still too afraid to look up into intense blue eyes, afraid of what he might find there. “I know this was, um...that a...line was crossed-”

“Yes.”

“-but, um. I...I dunno what’s going on here, or...what the deal is with your family, or what... _this_ is…” he cleared his throat and swallowed hard, “...between us. But...if I can help you, even a little bit, by being here...then I’m glad I came. Even if you just want to...y’know, _use_ me. Um. I’m...I’m okay with that.”

Castiel was silent for a moment as Dean continued to wash him, then sighed and took Dean’s face between his hands, tilting his head up to look at him.

“Don’t refer to yourself that way,” he said sincerely, eyes searching his face. “Please. You have to know by now that’s not how I see you.”

Dean didn’t respond, just looked back up at him, his hands falling to Castiel’s waist.

“I’m...I’m not angry. I’m just adjusting. That’s all. Besides, with the speed in which I seem to be breaking all my rules, one little toe out of line is hardly anything I could be angry about.” He kissed Dean’s forehead softly, murmuring against his skin: “I’m glad you’re here.”

They finished the shower in somewhat comfortable silence, not bothering to dress when they got out. Castiel didn’t seem to be in the mood for any kind of intimacy, but he allowed Dean crawl between his legs and rest his head on his lap while he answered emails from work on his phone. He also received a text, at which he sighed and typed a quick response.

“Anael,” Dean murmured, glancing up at him.

Castiel just rolled his eyes and nodded, finally resting a hand in Dean’s hair and stroking slightly. Dean inwardly smiled, knowing the woman was probably making sure that Castiel wasn’t being an ass and hadn’t kicked Dean out of the room or something.

“So, um, brunch?” Dean asked when the man finally put down his phone.

“Mm, yes,” Castiel murmured, leaning back against the headboard. “It’s a...thing. There will be a lot of mimosas. My family enjoys drinking, even for breakfast.”

“Well, it’s a holiday,” Dean shrugged. He was used to it. John made just about every day a holiday.

“I suppose.”

There was a pause and Dean looked up, biting his lip. “If you don’t want me to go, I can just-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Castiel scoffed. “Of course you will go.”

“Just meant...” Dean swallowed and glanced away. “I don’t have to, y’know, be your...guest. If you don’t want to introduce me. I can be Anael’s friend or whatever.”

Castiel stared down at him, his expression blank. “You think I’m ashamed of you?”

Dean tensed and looked ahead at the wall. “I think…” he said carefully, “you have reasons not to be seen with me.”

“Like?”

“Like…” Dean bit his lip, “my age.”

“You’re of age, so...irrelevant.”

“The fact that I’m a guy.”

Castiel chuckled. “I think they’re well aware of my preferences by now. Or lack thereof.”

Dean frowned and looked up at him. “They know...about…”

Castiel’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, then laughed, complete with eye crinkles. “Oh, god, no. Not about _that._ But I’ve never hid that I’ve had male and female partners in the past. One non-binary as well.”

“So they don’t question your lack of...dating?”

“They know I date,” Castiel shrugged. “Or rather, what _they_ think is dating. So no, it hasn’t raised any flags.”

“They don’t wonder why you’re not married, or don’t have kids?”

Castiel’s hand froze in his hair, but he doesn’t change his expression. “No.”

Dean may like to push his limits, but he’s not dumb enough to keep pushing at this point. He nodded and relaxed again, eyes falling shut as Castiel’s rubbing resumed.

\----

Dean jerked awake some time later to the sound of an alarm blaring from Castiel’s phone. He was still laying with his head in Castiel’s lap and he sat up, rubbing his eyes as Castiel fumbled to shut off the ringer.

Dean’s stomach clenched again when he remembered the brunch.

He said nothing as Castiel got up and started putting on clothes, all but zoned out until Castiel tapped him on the foot.

“You gonna get dressed?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, sliding off the bed. “Yeah. I just, um, gotta…” he looked nervously around the room, mind blanking.

Castiel gave him a concerned look and reached down to grab Dean’s bag, sitting it on the bed in front of him.

“What should I wear?” Dean asked, running through his clothing options in his head.

“Some clothes will be fine,” Castiel said, and Dean jerked his head up to look at his smug grin, frowning.

“Ha, ha.”

“It’s just brunch, Dean. You’re not meeting the Queen or anything.”

Dean huffed and finally settled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a plaid shirt thrown over it. He slipped on his boots and tugged nervously at his shirt as Castiel collected his keys and wallet, then followed him out the door.

It was only about a ten minute drive to the restaurant, a small diner seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but with views of the river from the small back porch. The hostess pointed them through the restaurant to the door leading out onto the deck, where Anael and four other people sat.

“Castiel,” the woman with short white hair who sat at the end of the table exclaimed brightly with a smile. “So good to see you, hon.”

“Mother,” Castiel greeted warmly, guiding Dean close with a hand on the small of his back. “Dad, Michael, Luc...this is Dean. Dean, this is my father, Chuck, my mother, Naomi, and older brothers Michael,” he gestured to the dark-haired man, “and Luc.” The blonde beside him nodded curtly.

“Hello,” Dean said with a small smile, and he took a seat between Anael- who gave him an encouraging smile and hand squeeze- and Castiel.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean,” Chuck smiled and nodded politely.  

“You, uh, you too,” Dean said awkwardly, folding his hands in his lap to hide his nervous wringing.

“Are you from Kansas, Dean?” Naomi asked.

“Ah, yeah. Yes,” he cleared his throat. “Born and raised.”

“School?” Chuck raised a brow.

“Well, I graduated high school this year,” he mumbled, feeling like a kid at the grown up’s table. “I’ll be starting at KU this fall, though.”

“Wonderful school,” Naomi nodded with a smile. “We tried to send Castiel there, but he insisted on New York. What will you be taking?”

“Computer programming, I think.”

“Ah, another tech geek,” Michael spoke up, sipping at his drink. “No wonder Cas here is so smitten.”

“S-smitten?” Dean blushed and glanced at Castiel, who was frowning stiffly down at a menu.

“Well, you’re the first he’s ever brought to this,” Michael shrugged. “I imagine it’s because you two are closer than his previous endeavors.”

“Well, I- I don’t-”

“I simply wanted him here,” Castiel finally spoke, reaching for Dean’s hand under the table and giving it a squeeze. “Is my personal life so interesting? Let us move on.”

“Well, Dean, I hope you have a good time,” Chuck smiled. “I’m afraid we aren’t too exciting. You’re probably used to more thrilling vacations, but I guess you could say this a sort of family tradition.”

“So I’ve heard,” Dean said, smiling up at the waitress when she placed mugs of coffee in front of both of them.

“So I was thinking we could do game night tonight,” Chuck said to anyone who was listening. “Fireworks aren’t until after dark tomorrow night, so I think spending the first one just at the lakehouse would be nice.”

“Ooh, I brought Cards Against Humanity,” Michael said with a grin, and Anael snorted.

“You really expect mom and dad to play Cards?” she said with a laugh. “My secondhand embarrassment will kill me.”

“Not so bad, huh?” Castiel whispered to Dean, taking a sip of his coffee.

Dean shrugged and gave him a smile. “Nah.”

Castiel smiled knowingly and threaded their fingers together, only letting go when their food arrived fifteen minutes later.

They talked and ate, one of Castiel’s brothers or Naomi asking him questions every so often, but more in the way of including him in the conversation rather than grilling him. It was a much more enjoyable brunch that Dean had expected, and he felt almost completely at ease with the Novaks by the time they were back in the car to drive to the lakehouse.

“So game night?” Dean asked, looking over at Castiel.

“Mmm.” Castiel drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Let me guess...tradition.”

“You catch on quick.”

Dean snorted. “So you guys are a bit sentimental, hm?”

Castiel tilted his head, huffing a laugh. “I guess you could say that.”

Dean looked back out the window, his hands fidgeting in his lap. The drive to the lakehouse was beautiful, mostly dirt back roads and tall trees. “How long have you been coming up here for the fourth?”

“For as long as I can remember,” Castiel said, staring out the windshield. “Since we were small kids. It was my-” he paused, licking his lips quickly and pressing them together. “It just...it means a lot to us.”

“Ah,” Dean murmured, turning to look out the window. There was more to all of this than what he was being told, but he knew better than to press the matter. Castiel would tell him or he wouldn’t, and Dean just had to accept that. As tolerant as Castiel was being about Dean’s presence, the fact of the matter was he didn’t invite him. Dean was more or less forced on him, and he was under no obligation to tell him anything.

The lakehouse is, of course, gorgeous and only a short walk to the lake from the looks of it. Castiel pulled in beside Anael’s car and Dean followed him up to the front door, stepping inside and blinking at the boisterous laughter they were greeted with.

“They’ve started already,” Castiel said dryly, shutting the door behind them.

“With, uh, what?” Dean asked.

“Like I said,” Castiel snorted. “My family enjoys drinking. Don’t get me wrong; they aren’t alcoholics. But when we get together, things get...loud.”

“Ah, your favorite,” Dean smiled when Castiel huffed a soft laugh.

“Indeed.”

They walked into the living room to find Ana and Michael setting up Cards Against Humanity while Luc looked on with a bored expression.

“This game is stupid,” he muttered.

“Your face is stupid,” Ana snarked back.

“Now, now,” Chuck waved his hand from the couch, not looking the least bit worried. “We do have a guest. Let’s not scare him off just yet.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean shrugged with a grin. “That’s basically how me and my brother interact.”

“You have a brother?” Naomi asked as she poured herself a drink.

“Yeah, Sammy. He’s still in high school.”

“Ah, little brother,” Michael nodded knowingly. “Cute when they’re little. A nuisance the rest of the time.”

“I was never a nuisance,” Castiel said defensively.

“I was,” Luc said bluntly.

“That’s true,” Michael nodded, ignoring Luc all together. “You were too quiet to be a nuisance. Fiddling with your computer thingies.”

“That _is_ the technical term, yes.”

“So how long have you two been together?” Naomi asked, sitting down across from Dean and Castiel with her glass.

Dean blushed. “Um…”

“Six months,” Castiel answered easily, smiling up at Anael as she handed him a glass of whiskey and plopped down beside him. “Mom, did you dye your hair? It looks great.”

“Oh, well, yes,” Naomi smiled, smoothing down her short white hair. “It was graying, anyway, so I just thought...may as well beat the rest of it to the punch. Stylist said it was best to embrace it.”

Castiel hummed and nodded, looping an arm around Dean’s shoulders. The conversation never steered back toward the topic of their relationship specifically throughout the game, which Dean had never played before but somehow ended up winning. He couldn’t remembered the last time he’d laughed as hard as he did playing with the Novak family, and he was sure he’d never seen Castiel as full of life as he was then either. Everything felt so easy, so natural, that Dean almost forgot he wasn’t _actually_ Castiel’s boyfriend.

By the time the game was over everyone but Dean was pleasantly buzzed, Castiel sitting back against the sofa with a dopey grin on his face as Anael recounted a story from when they were kids up at the cabin.

“...and the water was absolutely _freezing_ that year. It was the year we had that derecho, you remember?” She pointed at Castiel, who nodded. “And it brought in that cold front. The time it took us almost six hours to get here because of all the trees blocking the road? So anyway, I’m tryin’ to remember...whose idea it was to skinny dip anyway…”

“What??” Naomi squawked with a laugh, shaking her head.

“I was only...what? Six at the time? If anything, these idiots should’ve been the ones to discourage it-”

“Is there really any question whose idea it was?” Michael laughed. “So anyway, it’s pitch black outside except for the little sliver of moon, we’ve snuck out late at night-”

“Right! Mom and dad had gone to bed ages ago, and me and Cas were in our room, and he just busts in and orders us to get up and put shoes on and keep quiet-”

“Yeah, yeah, same for us. So we all sneak outside and down to the shore, and _that’s_ when the idea to swim comes up. And none of us have on swimsuits, obviously, and we’re all too afraid that sneaking back in would wake you guys up-” Michael gestured to Chuck and Noami, who were both steadily shaking their heads.

“So Gabe just shrugs and chucks all his clothes off and just fucking jumps in-”

“Language!”

Anael waved her hand. “Sorry. And we just all join in after him. Cas and I just splashed around at the shore, since I couldn’t swim well yet. He wouldn’t let me go any further.” She pretended to pout and nudged Castiel’s leg with her knee.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, nodding at her and forcing a smile.

“I cannot believe you kept that from us for this long,” Chuck said finally, huffing a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

“I’d almost forgotten about that,” Luc said, tapping his finger against his own beer. “That was a good year.”

Dean grinned at Castiel, faltering slightly when he saw Castiel’s unfocused and slightly watery eyes. He bit his lip and shifted closer, tucking himself under Castiel’s arm, sighing in relief when he squeezed Dean even closer.

The conversation continued around them. Dean peeked up at Castiel and braved the question he knew he needed to ask.

“Who is Gabe?” he murmured quietly, so as not to draw anyone’s attention.

Castiel was silent for so long Dean didn’t think he would answer until, finally: “He was my brother.”

Dean frowned slightly.

“Was?”

Castiel nodded, his eyes staring blankly ahead. “He died some time ago. Car accident, of all things.”

Dean froze and swallowed, laying his hand on Castiel’s thigh, squeezing. He didn’t say anything more, because what could really be said? I’m sorry? What good did that do? He couldn’t imagine hearing that if he lost Sam. Sorry didn’t bring him back.

Dean looked up and kissed Castiel on the cheek, wishing it was his lips instead. Castiel merely leaned into it.

“Where, uh...where are Hannah and Kali? All the kids?” Castiel asked out of the blue, halting the rest of the conversation. It was obvious by him speaking so randomly in the middle of one of Michael’s stories that he wasn’t paying attention, and he still didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that he’d interrupted anyone, either.

“Kali had to work today, so Hannah offered to stay behind and ride up with her and the kids,” Luc answered slowly. “They should be here…” he glanced at his watch, then looked over at Michael and shrugged, “around eleven or so?”

Michael nodded.

Castiel hummed, looking down at his glass.

“Ariel was asking about her uncle Cassie just the other day,” Michael said with a smile. “She wants you to show her how to make one of those constellation lights you made her last year, so she can make one for her little friend Hailey.”

Castiel huffed a laugh through his nose, his smile not reaching his eyes. “I can do that.”

Michael fell back into his story and everyone’s attention went back to him, but even while Dean nodded along at smiled and laughed at the right times, he was more focused on Castiel draining his drink beside him.

“Hey, I’m just gonna step outside for a minute,” Castiel leaned over to whisper, patting his pocket. “Will you be okay here?”

Dean forced a small smile and nodded, and Castiel kissed his forehead before getting up and stepping outside into the dark of the deck. Anael looked over at Dean and frowned, and he shrugged, chewing his lip as he cast a glance outside after him.

After about ten minutes, Naomi looked over at Dean with concern, then outside. They couldn’t see Castiel from their seats, but the deck was dark. Even still, no cherry glowing in the blackness.

“Anael,” Naomi said softly, trying not to disturb the friendly conversation between Chuck and Luc about religious difference. She inclined her head to the door. “Would you mind?”

She nodded and pressed her lips together, standing and taking Dean’s hand and pulling him out with her. Castiel wasn’t on the porch and they didn’t see anyone in their immediate vision either, so Anael looped her arm through his and they stepped down off the porch to walk through one of the dirt paths.

“So...Gabriel,” Dean said dumbly, not really knowing what else to say.

“I suppose this is the first you’re hearing of him?”

Dean huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah. I dunno why...well, no, that’s not true. I know Cas doesn’t tell me things cause we’re...we’re not…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the words that would complete that sentence.

“Cas and Gabriel were really close,” Anael said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “They were less than two years apart in age, polar opposites…” she smiled, “but I think that’s what made them such a good team, you know? Cas was always quiet, shy, real introverted. Gabriel was outspoken, sociable. Always pushing Cas outside of his comfort zone. I was only 12 when he passed, Cas was 16. But it hasn’t really gotten...easier for him through the years. Their relationship isn’t something I can really explain...or anyone, for that matter. But they had a connection that none of the rest of us did. But I think perhaps...perhaps Cas relied on him a little too heavily sometimes, and when he passed he just...he didn’t know how to _be_ without him.”

They stopped at a fork in the path and Anael frowned, then pulled them to the left.

“Anyway. Mom and dad, they’re great parents. But they never understood Cas the way Gabe did. Gabe practically raised him. So obviously, his death hit Cas harder than anyone else.” She shook her head. “ _God_ , I didn’t think he’d ever be okay. He was so...lost.”

“He…” Dean shook his head, looking down at dirt path, hands stuffed into his pockets. “He never said...anything about this. To me.”

“Well.” Anael sighed and shrugged. “I wouldn’t take it personally. I mean, he barely talked about it with us, you know? After it happened. After Gabriel, I’m probably the one he’s closest to, and not even I could get him to open up about it. Dean, it was _years_ before he could even say Gabriel’s name, let alone talk about him. I’m not surprised he never said anything to you.”

Dean didn’t say anything now, either, following her silently along the path. He wasn’t sure what to think of any of this, wasn’t sure if what Ana was saying was true or if the real reason Castiel never told him was because Dean was just a Sub. They had no true relationship, so Castiel- true to form- never shared anything personal outside of sex. Despite how much Dean shared with him.

“Ah, thought so.”

Dean looked up and stopped beside her, eyes blinking as he adjusted to the steadily decreasing sunlight. He spotted Castiel not too far away, seated on a dock with his legs dangling, his lips wrapped around something that looked suspiciously like a joint.

“He always ends up out here at some point,” Anael murmured. “It was one of their spots. I think Gabe taught him out to swim out here. Made him jump off the dock when he was younger, according to Michael. Apparently the water scared him or maybe it was just the jumping part, I dunno. But Gabe could always get him to jump.”

Dean licked his lips and glanced at her, raising a brow.

“Wha-”

“Go on,” she nudged him forward. “Make sure he’s not thinking of drowning himself. This is why I said he needed you here. He’s gonna push you away, because he’s an idiot, but he _does_ need you. Go be his good boy.”

Dean blinked and blushed a bright red. “H- how did you, uh-”

“I overheard more than I cared to from that kitchen,” Anael giggled.

“Oh, god…”

“Yep, that too.”

Dean’s face reddened and he sighed and shuffled forward, hunching his shoulders as if it would help him appear smaller as he approached the older man. He stopped just a few feet away, watching Castiel take a drag and exhale it slowly, his eyes staring down at the water with a faraway look.

“You know that stuff’s illegal, sir.”

Castiel exhaled on a huffed laugh and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced up at Dean and patted the spot next to him.

Dean sighed and rolled up his jeans, kicking off his shoes and taking the seat beside Cas, slowly lowering his feet into the surprisingly warm water. Castiel took a long drag off the joint and passed it to Dean, scrubbing a hand over his mouth and looking up at the night sky.

Dean eyed the joint for a moment then raised it to his lips, taking a small puff and coughing most of it back out as he handed it back to Cas. He’d only smoked a couple times before with friends and it had been awhile. He wrinkled his nose at the taste, somehow worse than the smell.

“It’s a nice night. Nice night tonight,” Castiel muttered softly, rubbing his thighs.

“Yeah…” Dean said, watching Castiel out of the corner of his eye. “Cas, I-”

“Don’t,” Castiel whispered, shaking his head. “Dean, please, just...I can’t. I can’t do it. Not tonight.”

“When, then?”

Castiel paused, frowning over at him. “What?”

Dean huffed, shifting uncomfortably, his feet making ripples in the water. “All this time and you n- you never said a word about him. So why would you any other time? I’m just...I’m tired of being in the dark, Cas. I know we’re not...you don’t want...um. Whatever. But you gotta talk to someone and I _want_ to listen.”

“I…I don’t know...what I can say.” Castiel frowned, looking down at the joint as he rolled it between his fingers. He huffed a humorless laugh and sniffed, shaking his head. “I don’t.”

Dean ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends harshly and blowing out a rough exhale. Fuck, he wanted to scream, to take Castiel by the shoulders and shake him, maybe even throw something. Anything to get the man to _wake up_ and see what Dean was trying to offer. The problem was, though, that he _did_ see it and just didn’t want it. It was painfully obvious to everyone else. Dean wore his heart on his damn sleeve. There was no way Castiel didn’t know his feelings.

Unrequited love was a bitch.

Dean looked over his shoulder at the spot he knew Anael was, though he couldn’t see her anymore. He wanted to shout that she was wrong. That Castiel didn’t need him. That this whole scheme of hers was a waste of time and only served to crush Dean’s heart even further. And he’d been stupid enough to go along with it.

Dean sighed and pulled his feet from the water, standing and shaking them off as he looked around for his shoes.

“Dean…”

“I’m not mad, Cas,” he muttered, spotting his socks and tugging them on, grimacing at the water soaking in. “I’m not...anything. You don’t wanna talk to me. That’s fine. I won’t ask anymore.” He slipped on his shoes and started walking away, admittedly slowly in hopes Castiel would stop him. It was not surprising, but still disappointing, when he didn’t.

Anael’s face fell when Dean returned alone, but she kept him company for the next hour or so until Hannah and Kali arrived with the kids and everyone went off to bed. Anael and Dean stayed up and had a few more beers with the unsaid understanding they were both waiting to see if and when he’d come home.

Finally Anael showed Dean to his room and retreated to her own, but not before giving him a long and lingering, slightly drunken hug. Dean shut the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh and looking around the mostly bland room, with nothing more than a few pictures on the walls and an old television in the corner. He stripped down to his boxers and slipped under the comforter, staring up at the ceiling.

He tossed and turned for close to an hour before he finally got comfortable, but the door to the bedroom swung open and hit the wall as soon as he’d begun to drift. Castiel stumbled inside, no more than a shadow in the dark room. He leaned heavily against the wall and shut the door a little too loudly, sighing as he bumped his forehead against it.

Dean sat up in bed. “Cas-”

Castiel whipped around and swayed on his feet, bracing himself against the door.

“Dean,” he said breathlessly, like he was surprised to see him there. He kicked off his shoes and nudged them to the side.

Dean sighed and pulled the covers back, sliding out of bed and steadying Castiel until he could get him to the bed, where he helped him sit.

“The hell, Cas,” Dean murmured, frowning as he loosened the man’s tie and pulled it over his head, then started on the buttons of his shirt. Castiel slid a hand up the outside of Dean’s thigh and gripped his waist, attempting to pull him closer.

“No. Stop,” Dean said firmly, and to his credit, Castiel’s hand dropped and he instead used it to prop himself up on the bed as Dean unbuckled his pants.

“I... _do_ wanna talk toyou, Dean,” Castiel said quietly. “I just...dunno _how._ What should I say?”

Dean huffed as he freed Castiel from his clothes, which smelled of weed and alcohol. He sat back down on the bed, crossing his legs, resting his hands in his lap.

“Tell me about Gabe.”

Castiel groaned and laid back on the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Gabe. Right.” He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “Gabe wusmy big brother.”

“Yeah.”

“He took care-a me.” Castiel slurred, pinching the bridge of his nose and sniffing once. “He took me everywhere an’ made me food an’ played games with me an’...everything. He tol’ me...tol’ me I could do whatever I wanted to do, be whatever I wanted to be. An’ he...um. He _saw_ me, y’know?”

Dean relaxed his shoulders, letting out a soft breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

And suddenly it all made sense. Castiel had chosen him for a reason that Dean could never figure out. He’d said he needed Dean similarly to how Dean needed him, but he never elaborated. This was it.

Gabriel was to Castiel what Dean is to Sam.

Dean leaned forward and took Castiel by the hand, tugging him gently until Castiel moved up to him, and Dean laid the man’s head in his lap, stroking his hair soothingly. Castiel closed his eyes and sighed, sniffing, and Dean wordlessly wiped wetness from the corner of one of his eyes before it had the chance to fall.

“He died ‘cause a me,” Castiel said, so quietly Dean almost didn’t hear it. “That night. I...fuck-”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean urged. “I’m right here.”

“I was at a party. First real party, he convinced me ta go. But I go’ there and it was so _loud_ and I couldn’t breathe...so I called Gabe ta come get me.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “I killed ‘im. Dean, I... _jesus._ I killed m’brother cause I couldn’t handle-a fucking bullshit party.” He laughed, scrubbing at his face, tears pooling in his eyes. “I’was my fault. He shouldn’t-a been out.”

“Cas, that’s not- it wasn’t your fault,” Dean shook his head, steadily wiping away every tear that leaked out of those sad blue eyes. “It was an _accident_.”

“Hewas only out there drivin’ cause-a me.”

“You weren’t the one driving, Cas,” Dean said firmly. “You weren’t the one that crashed into him. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“Yessi can,” Castiel slurred. “Been doinit for _years_.”

“Well, it’s time to stop.”

“But it _was-”_

“No, damn it,” Dean growled, grabbing Castiel’s chin and forcing the man to look up at him. “You were just a kid. You had no more control over his choices than you did over anyone else. You didn’t even want to go to that party, right?”

Castiel reluctantly shook his head, blinking his blurry eyes.

“Then if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his own,” Dean held up his hand before Castiel could rage at him for daring to suggest such a thing. “Don’t get mad; it’s the truth. He talked you into going, knowing it wasn’t your scene, knowing you’d probably hate it. And look, I get what he was trying to do. He was trying to get you sociable, to make friends, because he loved you. I never even knew the guy and I can tell that much. He loved you, Cas, and that... _that_ ’ _s_ why he was out driving. Because _he_ made a mistake and because he loved you enough to want to fix that mistake.”

Fresh tears fell from Castiel’s and he blinked as Dean calmly wiped them away. He stared up at Dean with expression he’d never seen before. It was almost like...longing. Like he was looking at something he wanted so badly he could taste it, but it was just out of reach.

“Whyere you…” Castiel swallowed and licked his lips, “doin’ this? Why do you wanna help me somuch?”

Dean blinked down at Castiel and cupped his cheek, chewing his lip briefly. “I kinda thought that was obvious.”

“No,” Cas shook his head. “No. You can’t.”

“Actually, I can. And I do.”

“Can’t...can’t haveit both ways,” Castiel mumbled, closing his eyes and reaching up to take Dean’s hand. “You were...nev’r s’posed tosee this. Nev’r s’posed to know. ‘Cause now you won’t...won’t see me th’same way.”

“I…” Dean chewed his lip again, furrowing his brow. “I haven’t seen you the same way for a long time now, Cas. But...not in the way you think. Definitely not because of this, or because- god forbid- you have an emotion from time to time. This...doesn’t change anything I signed up for.”

Castiel was quiet for a long time, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“She knew,” he said finally. “Ana fuckin’ knew what would happen and she went behindmy back anyway-”

“Don’t blame Ana,” Dean said softly, ignoring Castiel’s efforts to push his hands away and undoing the last few buttons on his shirt, leaning forward to lay his palms flat on Castiel’s stomach.

“I don’t... _blame_ ‘er,” Castiel drawled slowly. “Just...don like when summone outsmarts me.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Guess maybe she knows you better than you thought she did.”

“Guess maybe I’m lucky she does,” Castiel said quietly, eyes falling shut, breath evening out.

Dean sighed and shifted Castiel’s dead weight around, getting no help from the man himself, and situated him under the blankets. Castiel was more or less passed out, mumbling things Dean had no hope of understanding as he was unceremoniously moved around. Finally, when Dean had him stretched out on the bed in what he hoped was a comfortable position, he made himself comfortable against Castiel’s back. He fell asleep to the man’s gentle snoring, an arm thrown over his waist, legs tangled together.

\----

Castiel was still oblivious to the world when Dean woke, sleeping deeply and clutching to Dean like a vice. His hot breath puffed against Dean’s neck, his scruff scratching his neck, his snores steady in his ear. Dean stayed locked in his arms as long as he could before his bladder demanded attention. Carefully untangling himself from Castiel, Dean relieved himself and ventured into the empty kitchen. It was still early, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, so the rest of the house appeared to be asleep.

Dean rubbed at his tired eyes and dug through the cabinets until he found the coffee. He rested against the counter as the machine gurgled, then poured two cups and slipped back inside his and Castiel’s temporary bedroom. He sat one of the mugs down and crawled back into bed, turning the tv on low as he sipped at his drink.

Castiel’s arms found their way back around him again in his sleep, not that Dean was complaining. When he was almost done with his own coffee he finally stroked Castiel’s cheek, giving his shoulder a shake.

“Coffee’s gonna get cold, daddy,” Dean whispered, smiling down at him when Castiel opened an eye.

Castiel gave a brief smile before furrowing his brow and groaning, holding his hands over his face and rolling to his back. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Dean snorted, grabbing Castiel’s mug and holding it up. “Here. Sit up. Have some coffee.”

Castiel pulled himself up and grabbed the mug wordlessly as he rubbed his forehead. He fumbled with the drawer of the bedside table and forced it open, popping the cap open on a bottle of tylenol and tossing a few back before replacing the bottle.

“Remember anything from last night?” Dean asked hopefully, eyes flitting between Castiel and the television.

Castiel took a long sip of coffee, squinting at the tv. “The gist,” he said finally, looking over at Dean, eyes softening. “Sorry about that. About, uh. All of that.”

Dean shook his head and waved a hand dismissively, then reached out and took Castiel’s free hand and gave it a squeeze. “Nothin’ to apologize for.”

“It, uh...wasn’t his fault, though.”

“Hm?”

Castiel shook his head, staring unseeingly at the television. “Yeah, no. It wasn’t his fault. I guess it wasn’t mine, but it wasn’t his, either. But I guess it was just...easier to blame myself.”

“Cas, I…” Dean sighed and his head fell back with a soft thunk against the headboard. “I wasn’t really saying it was his fault. I just meant...stuff happens. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. You know, my dad, he...he kinda went through the same thing with my mom. Blamed himself for her death. I don’t think he does anymore, but it was messy for a long time. Drank himself into a stupor most nights.” He waved his hand and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m gettin’ off track here. Point is, I know it’s natural to blame yourself, or to just...want to have someone to blame, in general. But I really don’t want to see you destroy yourself over it.”

Castiel was silent as he sipped slowly at his coffee, tired eyes blinking at the tv.

“Cas. _Daddy.”_ Dean took Castiel’s hand in his, squeezing gently, until Castiel looked at him. “We need...I think we should talk soon, about what I should do, if you...if something like this happens again, if-”

“If I drop,” Castiel said bluntly.

Dean swallowed. “Yes.”

Castiel turned his attention back to the tv, watching unseeingly. “You’re right. I’ll, um. I’ll add some notes to our paperwork. As well as anything else I might could be doing for you. We’ll go over them. Together.”

“Thank you.”

He kissed Dean’s hand, then finally turned to him and frowned, pressing his lips together. “You don’t like it when I drink.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “I don’t like it when you get so drunk you can’t even string a sentence together. But that wasn’t the point I was trying to make.”

“No, I know, I just…” Castiel sighed, shoulders sagging as he stared down at his lap. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m such a mess and I know that this isn’t what you signed up for. What you expected to see in a Dom. You’re probably thinking how you could ever put your trust into someone who can barely hold himself together.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

Castiel looked over at him, hair a mess, prominent bags under his eyes. He pressed his lips together when Dean reached up to cup his cheek.

“We all have our shit, Cas. I didn’t think you were any different because you’re my Dom. And I certainly didn’t feel that any problems you had affected the way you cared for me as your Sub. And actually, I...if anything, I feel better about us, because now I understand why you chose me. I understand why you need me too, why we’re such a good fit.” He paused. “You still intimidate me. I still get nervous when you look at me, when you touch me. I’m still completely, ridiculously, turned on by you.”

Castiel gave a small amused smile when Dean blushed.

“Nothing’s changed here except I think I understand you a little better. We’ve evened the playing field just a bit in that now, I have a fighting chance to help you when you're hurting. It...might not feel like it yet, but this...it was a good thing, Cas.”

Castiel sat his coffee on the bedside table and gestured Dean over, pulling him roughly into his lap when he moved to his knees. He laid his hands on Dean’s thighs, fingers splayed, and looked up at him reverently.

“You still...I still want you,” Dean stammered out, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck. Castiel hummed, sliding his hands up to Dean’s waist, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Still your sweet boy,” Dean said, blushing when Castiel’s hands moved to his neck. The man nodded absently as he cupped Dean’s jaw and pulled him closer.

“I think, for the record, you hold yourself together just fine-”

He was silenced when Castiel sealed their lips together, bitter coffee still on their tongues when they slowly opened for each other, tasted each other with languid regard. Castiel flattened his hand against Dean’s lower back to pull him close, the hand on Dean’s jaw easily controlling the flow of the kiss.

Castiel still tasted faintly of alcohol and weed, but Dean didn’t care. Kisses were so rare, so special, that he savored each one as if it were his last. He sank into it, opening up for Castiel easily, letting him dominate. This one was different, though, soft and slow and almost curious. As if Castiel was exploring him for the first time.  

And when Castiel pressed him into the bed, that felt different too. Still slow, calculating, like this was entirely new and Castiel wasn’t sure how to proceed but willing to try it anyway. It felt different when Castiel removed his clothes, kissed down his body, gently opened him up with his tongue and fingers. Different when he finally slid inside and they both sighed, like they were coming home, and they rocked together with their eyes locked. And it was definitely different when they both came and Castiel crashed their lips together again, leaving Dean a whimpering mess.

There were no safe words, no ‘daddy’ and ‘sweet boy’, no toys or rules. Just Dean and Castiel. And there was no bath afterwards, no questions as to how Dean was feeling. Just Castiel wrapping his arms around Dean and holding him tight to his chest, stroking his hair, kissing him everywhere he could reach, with Dean pressed as close as he could get and breathing in Castiel’s scent, his presence.

And not for nothing, but it was the best aftercare Dean had ever gotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to be clear that the banter in our comment section is for fun and is optional.
> 
> If you're uncomfortable with "playing", you're more than welcome to give us a "red" comment, and we'll stop. The same goes if you like "playing" but are made uncomfortable by something we say.
> 
> Our goal is to have fun and engage our readers, and we absolutely don't want to make anyone uncomfortable by doing so. 
> 
> Appreciation and aftercare,  
> Sydney and Lauren xo


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone- Sydney here.  
> You guys are all so inspiring and sweet that we worked a little overtime for you to get a new chapter tonight.
> 
> I'm also feeling very good tonight, because I finally went to a doctor today that has prescribed me medication for my depression and anxiety. I'm only telling you guys because I want you to know that I've struggled with these illnesses for several years, and I'm only JUST getting help for it.  
> If you're struggling, don't give up. Don't EVER give up. There's always someone out there willing to listen, and there's always someone out there who will help. Keep fighting.
> 
> Now...before you sit down to read: Grab a snack. Drink a glass of water. If you've been sitting, stand and stretch. 
> 
> That's it. You've been so good for us. <3

“He seems good,” Anael said thoughtfully, propping herself up on her elbows and looking out over the water. Her towel was spread out beneath her and she had a large floppy hat on to protect her from the sun, her black one-piece hugging her slim frame tightly, red hair flowing over her shoulders.

Dean hummed, taking a sip of the beer Anael had insisted was fine for him to drink. No one seemed to notice or care, anyway. Castiel was down at the water with Michael, Luc, and a few of the kids, dutifully throwing each one into the water and laughing as they continued to line up to go again and again, squealing in delight. The oldest of their kids was Michael and Hannah’s daughter Ariel, who couldn’t have been more than 12 or 13. He also had twin boys, Micah and Gadreel, who were 7, and another daughter Lailah, who was 4. Luc and Kali’s girls, Dumah and Zuriel, both looked to be under the age of 10 as well.

“How’d you do it?”

Dean raised a brow, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision of Castiel’s easy happiness. “Do what?”

Anael scoffed irritably. “Dean.”

“Hey, _you’re_ the one who made me come here, and I just rolled with the punches,” Dean insisted, looking down from his chair at her.

She looked at him for a minute and finally shrugged. “Well. I dunno what you did, but it seems to have worked.” She paused, chewing her lip. “I told you it would be good if you came. Every year he…” she sighed, looking down the sand at him. “We come here as a family cause we always did before and it was Gabe’s favorite place to be. Gabe even came here sometimes by himself, just to get away. So I guess we all just...feel closest to him here. But every year…it’s always so hard on him. And I try, you know...I’ve tried to get him to talk it out, but...I dunno, he just...it never seemed to really help.”

Dean chewed his lip, watching as Castiel picked Lailah up and waded slowly into the water with her clinging viciously to his neck. He was rubbing her back soothingly and whispering something in her ear, and Dean saw her nod before Castiel inched them further down into the water.

“But you bein’ here...I dunno why I thought it would work but I just had this _feeling_ . Mikey was right, by the way. He’s never brought anyone here. Never, uh...brought anyone _home_ , that I can remember.” She furrowed her brow as she looked down at them, then shrugged and laid back on her towel. “So yeah. I dunno what you said or did, but thank you. I haven’t seen him this... _good_...in years.”

Dean just shrugged modestly and watched Castiel dip Lailah’s toes into the water, still rubbing her back as he waded further in. He stopped when the water reached her waist and spun in slow circles, then faster, making her giggle and kick at the water with her feet.

He’d make a good dad, Dean thought absently, as he rubbed at a mosquito bite on his arm. It was the first time he’d seen Castiel with kids and he had to admire the way he was so soft with them, surprisingly patient and easy going. Dean supposed it shouldn’t be such a surprise. Dean was just a kid when they met and Castiel treated him well enough, even after Dean went poking around where he shouldn’t.

“You want kids, Dean?” Ana asked, drawing him from his thoughts.

“I dunno,” Dean huffed a laugh. “Haven’t really given them much thought. Plus I raised Sammy. I kind of want to focus on me for a while.”

“That’s good,” Ana nodded. “I think a lot of people rush into kids, popping them out before they’re even grown up enough to realize the responsibility of having one. Before they even know who they really are. No harm in waiting. No harm in never having them, either.”

“I think I want them...eventually,” Dean said slowly, trying to suppress the doofy smile spreading across his face when Castiel waded back to the surface with the little curly-haired blonde and sat her on her feet, only for her to jump up and down with her arms out, immediately wanting him to pick her up again.

“What about you?” Dean asked, raising a brow. “Any kids for you?”

“Dunno,” Anael shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Cas thinks you’re seeing someone.”

“Does he?” Anael smiled down at the water, but it was hard to tell anything by her expression with her large sunglasses covering her eyes.

“So...are you?”

“I’m not telling you anything just so you can run back and tell him,” Anael laughed, shaking her head. “He finally got me back down here. He doesn’t need to know every detail of my personal life.”

“So yes, then.” Dean grinned, chuckling when Anael grinned back smugly.

“Maybe.”

“You know, you’re just as bad as him sometimes with the one-word answers,” Dean grumped, draining his beer and sitting the bottle in his cup holder before standing. Castiel was about to wade back into the water with Lailah when he noticed Dean, and he gave him a wave. Dean waved back and started down to him scanning the “beach” area of the reservoir, which was surprisingly empty except for a couple of other families on either side, with plenty of distance between all of them. The lake seemed to stretch forever, so far it looked like an ocean, and out along the far sides were tall, rocky cliffs the jutted out into the water. If Dean stopped and looked at the panoramic view of the beach and the lake, the little peninsulas almost looked like the tips of angel wings.

“Hi there,” Castiel said with a smile, shifting Lailah to one arm and leaning down to kiss Dean on his cheek. “Care to join us?”

“If little Lailah doesn’t mind,” Dean grinned at her.

“I’m not little,” she insisted.

“Of course not,”Castiel nodded. “We’re just too big.”

“Obviously,” Dean agreed, following them to the water. “Do you know how to swim, Lailah?”

She shook her head and hid her face in Castiel’s neck, who chuckled and rubbed her back.

“She’s a little afraid of the water,” he said gently. Dean wondered if this reminded Castiel of his time with Gabriel when he was being taught to swim, but thought better about asking.

“Ain’t nothing to it, girl,” Dean smiled encouragingly at her and waded into the water along with Castiel. “You like playing in the tub, right?”

She smiled and nodded shyly.

“Well, this is just one big tub,” Dean spread his arms out. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

“What about the Loch Ness monster?”

Dean waved his hand. “That’s in Scotland.”

“Oh…”

He could tell she had no idea where Scotland was, but it also seemed to put her a little more at ease.

“Loch Ness doesn’t exist,” Castiel rolled his eyes.

“You don’t know that,” Dean said, pointing a finger. “People didn’t think platypuses were real either.”

Castiel paused, giving Dean an odd look, then smiled and chuckled. “That’s What Gabe used to say.”

Dean smiled back, eyes soft and shining under the sun. “Sounds like me and him would’ve been best buds, then.”

Castiel lifted Lailah onto his shoulders, holding her ankles as he sank slowly down into the water. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you would’ve been.”

Dean dipped his head under the water and wiped it from his eyes, smiling over at Castiel when he started spinning around in the water, Lailah grinning widely and clutching tightly to his neck, resting her chin on his head.

“Faster, Unca Cas!” she squealed, giggling gleefully.

“Can’t go any faster, kiddo,” he chuckled, breathing hard. “Uncle Cas is gettin’ dizzy.” He pulled her carefully into his arms and inspected on of her little arms. “Hey, why don’t we head back up and put some more sunscreen on you, huh? You’re lookin’ a little red.” He looked to Dean and inclined his head toward the shore. “I’m just gonna take her back up. Be right back.”

Dean gave him a smile and nodded as he treaded water. Cas walked her to the shore and up to Michael and Hannah, sitting her on her feet and holding her hands as she danced in front of him. He talked to Michael while Hannah began toweling her off, finally heading back to the water when Hannah took her to start reapplying sunscreen. He tossed Dumah into the water as he ran past, laughing when she resurfaced sputtering and yelling after him.

Dean grinned at Castiel, floating on his back as the man slowly waded to him. He leaned down and kissed Dean on the nose, chuckling when the boy scrunched it up.

“You’re cute,” Castiel murmured, watching Dean straighten and stand, the water up to their chests.

“I could say the same for you,” Dean stepped closer and traced a wet finger up Castiel’s torso, teasing a nipple briefly. “You’re good with those kids. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so...carefree. You know, playful.”

Castiel shrugged, catching Dean’s hand and kissing the knuckles. “They make me feel...less _serious_ about myself, as you would say. It’s nice to just be an uncle for a little while and not to think about things like work or demanding Subs.”

“I’m only demanding because you spoiled me,” Dean muttered, resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder, sighing as the man wrapped his arms around him.

“I can’t really argue with that,” Castiel chuckled. “Them...you. Makes me feel young again.”

“Oh?”

Castiel hummed. “Younger than I’ve felt in a long time. A little hopeful too, maybe.”

Dean pulled idly at the curl of hair on the nape of Castiel’s neck. “Is this...weird for you?”

Castiel pulled back to look at him, cocking a brow. “Is what weird? You being here?” He frowned, chewing his lip, and finally shook his head. “No, not really. Maybe at first, but...I dunno. Feels kinda right now. Turns out Ana knows what she’s doing every once in awhile, and you…” he pointedly narrowed his eyes to keep from smiling, “I suppose your disobedience from time to time is acceptable.”

“To be fair, I didn’t _technically_ disobey, since you never told me I couldn’t come. You just didn’t invite me... _necessarily.”_

“Right.”

Dean huffed, pushing off of Castiel and floating on his back as Castiel splashed some water on his own face.

“Is...being with me weird? Just...in general?”

Castiel tilted his head. “It kind of is, yeah, if I’m being honest. I...I honestly didn’t have any kind of...sexual attraction or anything to you, before...before our agreement. But, um...after we talked that night, it was clear to me that you were just…” he huffed a laugh, shaking his head, “exceptional. Wise beyond your years. And you reminded me so much of Gabriel, the way you cared for Sam.”

“See, now...that’s kinda weird, that I reminded you of him and now...we-”

“I mean in terms of your caretaking,” Castiel said sharply, splashing at him. “But anyway, like _you_ can really talk.” He raised a brow, and Dean blushed. Even knowing he’d be panting ‘daddy’ under the man later, the thought embarrassed him now.

“It’s strange, the things that are attractive to us, isn’t it?” Castiel continued, reaching out to take one of Dean’s hands. “But it’s the nature of human psychology I suppose, wanting the things we were deprived of. Or the things we lost.”

Dean looked at their hands under the surface of the water and slotted their fingers together. Castiel frowned down at them, rubbing his thumb against Dean’s.

“But yeah, it’s a little strange. I, um. I haven’t felt this...sort of…” he paused, swallowing hard, “...in a long time. And I didn’t intend it, and it’s...oh, it’s such a mess.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, looking back up at the beach, the sun hitting his face and highlighting his sharp profile, water dripping from his nose and chin. A slow smile spread across his face and he looked up at the sky, breaking into a soft chuckle, brilliant blue eyes finally settling back on Dean. “All the best things are, though. So yes. Maybe it’s...weird, you and I. But I’m okay with a little weird, as long as you are.”’

Dean gave him a blank stare. “I call you ‘daddy’ and get off from you spanking me. I think we’re past the weird point.”

Castiel huffed and splashed Dean again, smirking as he sputtered and glared.

“You still have such a mouth on you,” Castiel muttered, looking down at Dean with only a little annoyance. “I had thought I would have spanked that out of you by now.”

“Guess you haven’t,” Dean stuck his tongue out the yelped when his head was suddenly dunked under the water. He came up sputtering and coughing, glaring daggers at Castiel who stood laughing, complete with a wide grin and crinkled eyes.

“I could’ve _died_ ,” Dean said dramatically, rubbing at his burning nose.

“Don’t be such a baby- _oomf-”_

Cas grunted when Dean abruptly launched himself at him, catching him completely off guard and tackling him into the water. Castiel sunk halfway down before he managed to catch himself, lifting Dean with surprising strength, the boy hanging off his back. He managed to pry his hands from around his neck to drop him in the water, only to join him a second later.

They split time between the water and the beach, finally heading back up to the lakehouse around dinnertime. Luc prepared a boil of steamed and seasoned crab legs, shrimp, corn on the cob, kielbasa, and little red potatoes, dumping it along the center of the table for everyone to grab out of. Dean had never seen anything like it before but it was apparently a tradition at the Novak Fourth of July celebration. They sat around the table with beers and a what felt like a strange lack of utensils or plates, eating with their hands and telling stories. Dean even felt comfortable enough to talk some about John and Sammy, even a little about school things, despite the fact that it made him feel even more like a kid to do so. Castiel sat across from him and Dean caught him watching him several times...not that Castiel ever tried to hide when he was. He would just smile at him and continue staring, completely shameless.

The parents insisted their kids lay down to “rest” for a little while after dinner, and most of the children retired to their rooms without much protest. Dean offered to help clean the kitchen in Castiel’s place, even after he told him no, because by the end of the dinner he was looking drained from the conversation and ready for some time alone. Castiel did look grateful, giving Dean a relieved smile and kissing his forehead, then he retreated to the porch with his pack of cigarettes and a freshly poured glass of bourbon. Dean figured he would be camping out there for the foreseeable future.

People went to and from the porch to see and speak to Castiel, Kali being the only other one of them who smoked cigarettes and had any real reason to. They all seemed to understand, and none of them lingered too long. Dean smiled to himself as he discarded of the plastic tablecloth and disinfected the table beneath.

“Thank you, Dean,” Naomi said sweetly when they’d finished. Anael was washing the few dishes Luc had used for preparation of the meal, and she looked back at him and smiled, pushing some hair out of her face with the back of her hand.

“No problem,” Dean smiled politely and grabbed a dry washcloth, wiping his hands quickly. “I’m used to helping with clean up after dinner. One of my, uh, many jobs back at home.”

“Yes, you mentioned you helped raise your little brother,” Naomi tilted her head and Dean was starkly reminded of Castiel. “Sounds like you do a lot for him.”

Dean shrugged and tossed the towel at Ana’s head, earning a splash from the sink water. He chuckled and wiped the drops away from his face, turning back to Naomi.

“Guess so,” he mumbled modestly. “I mean, our dad isn’t a bad dad, he just...well. He wasn’t around a lot and, uh, when he came home from work he usually ended up passing out on the couch with a beer in his hand. Without mom around, I had to just pick up the slack.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s...it’s better now. Sammy’s older and he’s learning to do things for himself now. And my dad...he’s good too. Better, anyway.”

“I see…” Naomi eyed him for a moment then sighed as she sat down, folding her hands over the table. “I’m afraid Castiel was in much of the same boat when he was young. Chuck was working quite a bit back in those days and I had just taken a new job myself. We were not home as often as we should have been. Luc and Michael were both starting college, so Gabriel was left to help take care of Castiel and Ana. He and Castiel were very close...it’s why he takes this time of year particularly hard.” She smiled up at Dean sadly, resting her chin in one of her hands. “You seem to be helping him a lot. I can see what he sees in you.”

Dean blushed and looked down at his feet, chewing on his lip.

“I think you’ve embarrassed him enough, mom,” Ana giggled. “Dean, you’re off duty now. Go and make sure your boy hasn’t smoked the whole pack.”

Dean gave them both a smile and slipped outside, pulling the door closed behind him. Castiel was sitting in an adirondack chair at the corner of the deck overlooking the lake, his pack of cigarettes and lighter on one of the arms. He ashed his cigarette and took a drag, looking over his shoulder as Dean approached. He held out a hand, taking Dean’s and pulling him close enough to wrap an arm around his waist.

“Was wondering when you were gonna come out here,” he said softly, spinning his glass on the armrest.

“Just givin’ you some time,” Dean said, his hand finding its way into Castiel’s hair.

Castiel smiled up at him. “You’re sweet.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Castiel huffed a laugh, lifting his cigarette to his lips and taking another drag before Dean plucked it from his lips and tossed it into the ashtray. Castiel raised an eyebrow, giving him an amused grin, then licking his lips and taking a sip of his near-empty drink.

“I suppose we’ll need to start looking into finding you a place to stay near KU,” Castiel said off-handedly, sliding his hand up and down Dean’s side. “I’m to assume you’ve told your father you’ll be moving out?”

“Uh.”

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. “Dean.”

“I’m gonna,” Dean pouted, scuffing his shoe against the wood.

“It’s in a month, Dean.”

“I know.”

“Does he at least know you’re going to school?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean rolled his eyes. “He was mostly cool about it, but...I don’t know how well he’ll take the fact that I’m moving.” Actually, Dean was pretty damn sure how John was going to take it, and it wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to.

“Speaking of which,” Castiel downed the rest of his drink and set his empty glass down on the arm of his chair. “Since you won’t accept my help, have you decided if you’re going to try the dormitories or look into an apartment?”

Dean grimaced and shook his head. “No dorms. Definitely an apartment. Charlie and I think we can afford one if we get one together.”

“Hm.”

Dean blinked down at Castiel, taking in the pursed lips and the oddly anxious tapping of his finger. Dean snorted and grinned, eyes sparkling.

“She’s gay, Cas.”

“Yes, well.”

Dean sighed and crawled into Castiel’s lap, smiling when Castiel wrapped his arms around him a little possessively.

“You’re jealous.”

“No,” Castiel said slowly. “I just don’t understand why you can’t stay with me. If you think I would ever distract you from your school work, then-”

“No, I know that,” Dean shook his head and looped his arms around Castiel’s neck, bumping their foreheads together. “I have a feeling you’d actually be really fucking annoying about homework. Probably wouldn’t let me get off until it was done.”

Castiel paused and pulled a thoughtful face. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Dude, no,” Dean whacked him softly on the head. “It’s just like I told you before. I need to know I can do this on my own. Just...let me try for one semester, at least. So I can say I did it. Then I’ll move in and be your kept boy for all you want.”

“You’re hardly a kept boy.”

“Well, whatever.”

Castiel sighed and took Dean’s face between his hands, catching his gaze. “You need to stop putting this off.”

“I’m not-”

“You _are_ ,” Castiel insisted. “You’re starting school in a month and have nowhere to live, your father doesn’t even know you’re planning to leave, and-” he paused, tilting his head. “Is this about Sam?”

Dean looked down, picking at Castiel’s collar. “No.”

“Dean.”

“Look, I know he’s gonna be fine, but it’s...it’s still hard, you know? I know he can take care of himself but...knowing dad’s hardly ever home, and he’ll just be there-”

Castiel pulled him in for a kiss, nipping gently at Dean’s lip as he pulled away. Dean bumped their foreheads together, furrowing his brow.

“Stop tryin’ to distract me.”

“I’m not. Just couldn’t help it.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “ _Anyway._ Charlie’s already been kind of... _pre_ -looking for places. She has a few in mind, so...it’s not as bad as you think.”

Castiel hummed. “I’ll need to approve them first.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you-”

“Dean, as your Dom, it is my responsibility to make sure that you’re safe and comfortable at all times, and in turn that makes _me_ feel comfortable. And I’m very _uncomfortable_ with the idea of you staying somewhere that I haven’t approved-”

Dean cut him off this time by lurching himself into another kiss, more urgent than the last one, teasing Castiel’s lips with his tongue. He shifted in his lap, smirking against Castiel’s lips when he heard his soft intake of breath, felt the press of his cock under him.

“Your distractions won’t work on me,” Castiel said a little breathlessly when Dean pulled away.

“Won’t they?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes, mouth quirked into a smile.

Castiel smiled slyly, tugging gently on the hair on the back of Dean’s head, pulling him close to whisper against his lips:

“Boy, I could fuck you until you were a boneless heap on that bed in there and you’d still wake up with a Castiel Novak-approved apartment near Kansas University. Don’t test the limits I will go to when it comes to you. You’ll find I have none.”

Dean swallowed hard and nodded, threading his fingers into Castiel’s hair. “So I guess, um...I guess the whole...kissing thing doesn’t bother you anymore.”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“...oh.”

“I just mean…” Castiel frowned and licked his lips, “I tend to overthink things like this sometimes, I think, and-”

“You think?”

“-I don’t want to overthink this. Us. I- I just want, um. To enjoy where it takes us. And if I don’t think to much about it, if I don’t label it, you’re still my Sub and I’m still your Dom and we have a fantastic contractual relationship in which we’re both very happy...which is to say, if nothing else, is what we’re _reduced_ to. So...no. I’m not spending much time dwelling on the consistent breaking of one of my own rules, and am instead focusing more on how it makes me feel...in the moment, I suppose.”

Dean smiled. “Just a Sub and a Dom fulfilling a contract.”

Castiel’s eyebrow ticked. “Exactly.”

“Whatever you say, daddy.” Dean kissed Castiel’s forehead and stood, perching himself instead on the armrest of his chair, Castiel’s hand gently rubbing his lower back. “So when will the fireworks start?”

“Shortly after the sun goes down,” Castiel said, lighting up another cigarette and holding it just out of Dean’s reach, eyebrow raised. “Last one tonight, promise.”

Dean sighed and slumped over, letting his hands fall between his legs. He looked out over the lake, at a few families walking near the water, kids running around with sparklers, families eating, children squealing, adults talking and drinking. It was hectic and peaceful all at once, and Dean allowed himself a brief moment of longing for the childhood he never had.

Castiel drew him out of his thoughts, taking his hand to pull him back down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around him and Dean laid back against him, sighing when Castiel pressed a kiss to his shoulder. The rest of the family filed out of the house slowly and took seats around the deck, none of them paying much mind to either of them save for a few smiles in their direction.

Dean could remember the last time he did anything special for July 4th and it had been years ago, when Sammy was still a little kid. He’d taken him out into the woods and set off a few sparklers. Not too exciting for a teen, but to Sam it had been the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. Those little sparklers paled in comparison to the fireworks that shot off over the lake, loud and bright, some even exploding into different shapes and patterns. He and Castiel watched mostly in silence, smiling as the kids laughed and screamed.

When the last firework cracked over the sky and the air smelled of smoke, the kids were ushered off to bed and the adults mingled in the living room. Dean turned down a drink and listened as the Novak family chatted, contributing little but enjoying the conversation anyway. Gabriel came up a few more times and even though Castiel clammed up, he didn’t retreat outside for another joint, so Dean called that a win. And outside of his after-dinner bourbon, he didn’t touch another drink.

Eventually, one by one, they all meandered back to their bedrooms. Once they were alone, Castiel pulled Dean into bed and wordlessly began to undress him. Dean laid back and sighed, closing his eyes as Castiel pulled off his shoes and jeans followed by his shirt.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Castiel said quietly as he set the shirt aside.

“Yeah?” Dean smiled, raising a brow.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded as he stretched out beside Dean, splaying a hand over his bare chest. “I was...well, upset at first. Not because you were here exactly, but because it felt a little...underhanded. I have to admit, though, that having you here as made this easier. Every trip, even as I was surrounded by family, I always felt...alone. Detached from it all. Having you by my side has helped. It’s been grounding.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Mmm.” Castiel watched his fingers dance over Dean’s skin. “But you didn’t come to help me, did you?”

Dean paused. “Well, Ana said-”

“Yes, but you didn’t know what she meant, at the time, did you?”

“Well...no.”

“So why did you really come here, Dean?”

“Because...I…” Dean frowned, his hand finding Castiel’s in the dark and lacing their fingers together. “‘Cause I wanted to be with you.”

Castiel sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to Dean’s hand then sliding his own up to rest on his cheek. “Why?”

Dean swallowed. “‘Cause you...you make me really happy. And you make me feel safe. And I feel more myself than I ever have in my life around you, like I don’t have to be anything other than me for you.” He paused, shrugging. “I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to come without you knowing, but...I wanted to so badly that I didn’t really care. When Ana asked, it…” he huffed a laugh, “well, to be honest, it hardly took any convincing.”

Castiel smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners the way Dean so loved. The smile Dean craved; the one he was afraid he’d never see directed toward him so genuinely. Castiel leaned in close, pressing their foreheads together, looking Dean in the eyes, his stare enough to make Dean’s whole body tingle with excitement and nervousness. Finally Castiel pressed his lips to Dean’s, gentle and innocent at first, pulling him to his side and wrapping his arms securely around him. They tasted each other curiously, unhurried, until Dean finally broke away for air. Castiel wordlessly pulled him to his chest and kissed his forehead, and they fell asleep like that, legs tangled, holding tightly to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has nothing to do with THIS story, but just a little self-promoting for our upcoming projects! 
> 
> It looks like our next one posting almost directly after Sweet Boy will be Honey-Baked. The plot of this one is literally- the best I can describe it- "Idiots in Love". There's smut, fluff, cute flashbacks, showing two idiots who have been in love since they were kids too afraid to tell the other one and lose their friendship. (This is incoherent rambling but hey, I haven't actually sat down to work or anything for promotion yet)
> 
> And ohhhh you guys. We're participating in the DCBB this year (yay!) and oh, man. I can't tell you anything about it yet, but you're gonna love it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is the one you've all been waiting for in so many ways.
> 
> You're welcome and...we're sorry? Maybe?
> 
> Sydney and Lauren xo

“ _Dean._ ”

Dean woke to Castiel nipping at his ear, hovering over him, caging Dean’s body with his arms and legs. He nipped softly and kissed behind his ear, pulling back to kiss his lips as Dean groggily rubbed at his eyes.

“Cas?” He looked over at the window, finding it still dark outside, a sliver of moonlight cast across the floor. “What’s goin’ on?”

“C’mon,” Castiel whispered, climbing swiftly off the bed and offering him his hand. He looked wide awake, excited. He was wearing a white-button up, but it was only buttoned about halfway, and a pair of swimming trunks. Dean frowned as he sat up, gesturing lazily to him.

“What are you-”

“No questions, just get up and put on your swimsuit.”

Dean grunted as Castiel took his hand and pulled him to his feet, holding steadily to his waist until Dean found his equilibrium. He pulled Dean in for a rough kiss, tugging at his hair as he dominated, fingers pressing into Dean’s waist then wrapping around his lower back to press him close.

Dean finally pulled away, licking his lips, his brows furrowed. “Not that I’m complaining, but...what the hell is going on right now?”

Castiel just gave him a childlike grin, stepping away to rifle through Dean’s bag. He shoved a pair of trunks into his hands and took it upon himself to pull a shirt over his head. Dean chuckled and put his arms through the holes, shaking his head as he pulled on the trunks.

There was a soft knock on the door and Castiel opened it, waving Anael inside and shutting it behind her.

“You guys ready?” she whispered, pulling a long cardigan around her despite the warmth of the room.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

They snuck out the back door of the cabin and started walking down the path, Castiel wrapping a possessive arm around Dean.

“Are you two going to tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked, looking back and forth between them. “Where are we going?”

“To the cliffs,” Castiel said with a smile, looking out over the water in the distance.

“The...cliffs.”

Castiel looked back over at him, grinning mischievously, and Anael giggled nervously.

They finally reached what appeared to be their destination, at the tip of one of the “angel wings” that Dean was admiring earlier that day from the beach. The moon was big and high in the sky and it felt like it shone down on them like a spotlight. The area was mostly flat, covered in soft green grass which thinned out toward the tip of the cliff, stretching into flat rock. The moon’s reflection rippled in the water out in the distance. The night was mostly silent, in stark comparison to the noise of fireworks and families earlier that night. Dean realized he hadn’t even bothered to look and see what time it was.

Anael plopped down on one of the rocks about twenty feet away from the edge of the cliff, drawing her knees to her chest as she looked up at the sky.

“What are we doing up here?” Dean asked, looking out over the water another few seconds before turning back to Castiel, whose excitement was still gleaming in his eyes.

“Tradition,” Castiel said simply, grinning boyishly.

“What-”

“Alright,” Anael said suddenly, standing and shaking out her limbs, jumping slightly from foot to foot. She kicked off her shoes and slipped her cardigan off, dropping it to the ground beside her shoes. She steeled herself and took a deep breath, looking over at Dean and giving him a wink, before letting it out slowly and taking off at a full sprint. Dean turned to watch her, his heart stopping as she reached the end of the cliff and flung herself off the side.

“What the fuck?!” Dean ran after her, stopping a few feet away and leaning over the side. Anael emerged from the rippled water below, letting out an excited _whoop_ and pumping her fist. Dean’s heart was in his ears, his chest heaving, and he almost lost his balance and tumbled over the side when he felt Castiel behind him, just before strong arms wrapped around his middle.

“What is this?” he asked softly, laying his hands over Castiel’s, unable to tear his eyes away from the, frankly, terrifying distance to the water.

“Like I said, tradition,” Castiel whispered, pressing a kiss behind his ear. “This was our little secret. Me, Gabe, Ana...we used to do this every year, from the time Ana was 8 years old. It’s, um...not something Ana or I would ever do on our own. But Gabe was always trying to get us to do the unexpected, and this...it was just one of those things that I think we always kind of held close. We never spoke of it, we just had this, every 4th of July, and it was our little secret that we carried every year. But it was unsaid, every vacation, until he pulled us out of bed to come here.”

Dean swallowed hard, frowning down at the water.

“Come on!” Anael called, waving her arms.

“Is it, um…”

“It’s safe,” Castiel assured him. “It’s really not as far as it looks. Water’s deep. No rocks. I wouldn’t let you do it if I even thought-”

“I know.”

“Hey.”

Castiel stepped back and pulled Dean with him, turning him in his arms and cupping his face gently, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, releasing it slowly, looking Dean in the eyes. “I love you.”

Dean sighed, laying one of his hands of Castiel’s. “I know. I love you, too.”

“No, Dean, I…” he paused, letting out a heavy breath. “I know I’ve said it before, but that was...I let myself believe it was something else. It wasn’t. It _isn’t._ So when I say I love you, I mean I’ve loved you for awhile now, and...that...I…” he swallowed, closing his eyes for a long moment before opening them again. “I’m... _in_ love with you. And I’ve just decided that I’m tired of being afraid, and I’m going to jump.” He nodded slowly, searching Dean’s face. “And I guess I’m just wondering...if you’ll jump with me.”

It probably should have taken more time to think about, to consider the consequences and the possible complications of their future, but the word ‘yes’ came out so fast Dean barely let Castiel finish before he spoke. Castiel blinked in slight surprise and paused, as if waiting for Dean to backtrack, but the boy simply surged forward and crashed their lips together. Castiel, caught off guard, stumbled back a few steps before he found his balance and returned the enthusiastic kiss until they were both breathless.

“Of course I’ll fucking jump with you,” Dean panted as they pulled away just enough to breathe. “Cas, I’ve been in love with you since we started this damn thing. Maybe even before that. And I...I was willing to keep it to myself, because I didn’t want to lose you. Didn’t want to lose what I had, even if it hurt sometimes.” Dean paused and swallowed, glancing over his shoulder at the edge of the cliff, and nodded to himself. “I’m scared, but I know we’re gonna come out of it okay.”

Castiel set his jaw and nodded, taking Dean’s hand and squeezing it tightly. He took a deep breath and took a few wide steps back, then took off at a sprint, just like Ana. He leaped and plummeted, and Dean held his breath as he peered over the edge just in time to see Castiel splash into the water. Ana cheered as he surfaced, all grins, and he looked up at Dean. He beckoned him with a hand, holding out his arms.

 _I’ll catch you_.

Dean took several deep breaths. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and jumped.

He was barely able to register he was airborne before he landed, water rushing around him. He kicked and surfaced, gulping in air, his heart hammering in his ears so loud he didn’t hear Ana’s whoop. He only felt Castiel’s arms around him, kisses on his cheeks and forehead, those strong hands holding him close and tight.

\----

Dean grunted as his back hit the wall, barely having time to regain his breath before Castiel was on him, pressing their bodies together, warmth permeating through the chill of the drying lake water. He kissed him desperately, tongues mingling, teeth scraping, both of them breathless and too caught up in one another to care. Castiel forced Dean’s arms above his head and pinned his wrists there with one hand, the other sliding around his waist and down into the waistband of his swimming trunks. He worked his hand around the waistband as he slid them down Dean’s thighs, until it was enough that they finally fell the rest of the way on their own and Castiel’s hand was on his ass again, squeezing and pulling.

Dean moaned into his mouth and canted his hips forward...all he could do with his hands frustratingly pinned above him. Castiel slid his hand down Dean’s thigh and guided the leg around his waist, only then letting go of his hands in favor of lifting him to carry him to the bed. He finally broke the kiss to retrieve the lube and step out of his own wet swimsuit, slowing his breakneck pace to gently open Dean up.

“Enough, it’s enough,” Dean groaned when Castiel was preparing to add another finger, and he pulled at the man’s arms, shaking and panting. “Please, Cas-”

Castiel’s own hands were shaking as he slicked his cock and lined himself up, but he sighed in relief when he fully sheathed himself inside, leaning heavily over Dean. He pressed their lips together again as he began to move, thrusting shallowly and circling his hips, more concerned with the kiss and the actual feel of being inside than he was with any kind of lovemaking finesse.

Not that Dean minded, of course. It was perfect, absolutely fucking perfect, and he arched under Castiel, wrapping his arms around his neck as he returned the kiss with vigor.

Castiel buried his fingers into Dean’s hair, pulling at the short strands as their tongues mingled and their hips met with each lazy thrust. It was slow but intense, Castiel’s whole frame caging Dean beneath him and pressing him hard into the mattress. His hands seemed to be everywhere; his hair, his neck, his waist. Pulling and caressing and squeezing. Castiel’s thrusts were erratic at best, slow and deep and hard, sometimes barely moving at all and burying his cock inside, holding it there to savor the heat and tight pulsing.

“I love you,” Castiel whispered between kisses, pressing his lips to every inch of skin he could reach. Dean shuddered, soaking in the words, the feel of Castiel pinning him down with his weight, the hot breath on his skin.

“I love you, too,” Dean murmured, wrapping his legs around Castiel’s waist to get him even deeper, his back arching.

Dean shuddered as Castiel’s teeth scraped against his neck. His cock was trapped between their bodies, sensitive to the friction between the two of them, and Castiel’s cock nudged his prostate on nearly every pass. Dean finally came between them with a choked cry when Castiel groaned into his neck as he pumped into him, the warmth seemingly spreading through his whole body.

Castiel never stopped moving, thrusting through his own orgasm until they became lazy and slow. He pulled back only enough to crush their lips together again, slipping his tongue inside and moving it in time with his hips. Dean felt so impossibly full, so sated and safe. He wound his arms around Castiel’s neck and panted against his lips as Castiel whispered to him, repeating the same thing over and over again like a mantra.

“I love you _, I love you, I love you so much,_ my sweet boy. _My Dean.”_

\----

Dean woke later to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He flopped over quickly and reached for it, wincing slightly at his sore muscles. He swiped at the screen a few times and held it to his ear, his voice groggy with sleep when he answered.

“Hello?”

“Dean!” Charlie’s voice on the other line bordered on panicked. “Oh god, Dean, I’m so sorry! He caught me off guard and I just froze and I-”

“Whoa, hey, hold on,” Dean said, rubbing his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Your _dad_ ,” Charlie emphasized. “I...Dean, I ran into him this morning at the gas station and he asked where you were and I-”

“What?!” Dean sat straight up in bed, eyes wide. “Charlie, what did you say to him?” Castiel stirred beside him, rolling over and patting the spot on the bed where Dean had been laying, then cracking open an eye and frowning up at him.

“I...he...he asked where you were, and I s-said, I blanked and told him you were at the house, and he asked about the trip and I...I panicked, didn’t know what to say, so I-”

“Did you tell him?” Dean asked as evenly as he could, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Yes,” Charlie breathed. “Oh, god. Dean, I’m sorry-”

“Fuck!” Dean growled, running a hand over his face. Castiel sat up in bed and laid a hand on his back, looking at him with concern.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Not your fault,” Dean ground out, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You did what you could. I gotta...I gotta go.”

“Dean-”

Dean hung up the phone and dropped it on the bed, rubbing his face hard with both hands. “Fuck. Fuck!”

“Hey,” Castiel said gently, rubbing his back. “Breathe. What’s going on?”

“Dad,” Dean said bluntly, dropping his hands to his lap and looking helplessly over at him. “Cas...my dad. He knows.”

Castiel stared blankly at him for a long moment, absently tonguing his bottom lip. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding. “Right. Right, well...okay. Then we deal with it.”

“How?”

“We...tell him the truth,” Castiel said, with way more confidence than Dean felt like he had himself at the moment. “Or rather...we tell him what is the truth _now._ He doesn’t need to know the details.”

“Cas, he’s gonna-” Dean shook his head and clenched the comforter around his lap, his hands shaking. “Oh, God, he’s gonna kill you. Cas, he might _actually_ kill you.”

“He won’t kill me, Dean,” Castiel huffed, taking one of those trembling hands into his steady one and squeezing. “Baby, calm down. Breathe.”

“No, no, he’s probably _seething_ right now. Shit, what if he calls the cops? What if he thinks this has been going on since I was 16? Cas-”

“Dean, stop,” Castiel pull him into his lap, holding him close as he nuzzled his neck.

“Why are you so damn calm?” Dean demanded, holding tightly to Castiel.

“There’s very little point in panicking,” Castiel clicked his tongue. “We’ve done nothing wrong. Well, nothing illegal at any rate. He and I are grown men, Dean. We are capable of having an adult conversation without violence.”

“Cas, you give him too much credit,” Dean shook his head. “You don’t know his temper. Jesus, he’s gonna go fucking nuts. Not only are you a guy, you’re his boss and over twice my age. Fuck, how am I supposed to walk into that house-”

Castiel pressed his lips together and stroked Dean’s back. “You won’t be alone, sweetheart. I’ll be there with you. Whatever happens, I’ll be right there.”

Dean tugged at his hair, letting out a crazed laugh. “Cas, you- that’s insane. You realize that, right? It’s all...this entire thing, all of it, it’s fucking insane. And the fact that you’re even considering-”

“Not considering,” Castiel said, taking Dean’s hands in his again, shaking his head. “I’m _going_ to be there with you, and we are _going_ to get through this. It...I mean, it had to come out eventually, right? Because if not, what are we even doing?”

“What-” Dean looked over at him, narrowing his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Did last night mean nothing to you?” Castiel asked quietly, looking down at their hands.

Dean licked his lips, shifting to face Castiel, dipping his head to look at him. “Of course it did.”

“What we said, what I-”

“I meant every word,” Dean said firmly. “And I...I know you did too.”

“Then what I’m saying is,” Castiel looked up at him, meeting his gaze, “if we’re doing this, if we’re going to be together...he had to know eventually. And while this wasn’t the opportune time, and surely not how I would have preferred it to go...it has to now. So we will work with what we have, and we will get through it.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “You’re insane.”

Castiel chuckled, pulling him in and kissing the top of his head.

“What are you-” Dean cleared his throat, “what are you going to say? Cause I got nothin’.”

Castiel hummed, pressing his cheek to Dean’s forehead. “I’ll figure something out.”

“That’s not comforting.”

Castiel sighed. “I suppose firstly, I’ll assure him that nothing happened until you were of age. He won’t believe me, I’m sure, but…” he shrugged, “if I were him, that’s what I’d want to know first. I’ll tell him it wasn’t intentional, that neither of us intended for this to happen, but we couldn’t help how we felt.” He pulled back and cupped Dean’s cheek. “I’ll tell him that I love you, very much.”

Dean swallowed and looked down, unused to hearing those words spoken outside of scene, but enjoying them all the same. “It...it won’t be enough,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “He’s probably furious. He won’t care that you love me.”

“Then that’s his problem,” Castiel shrugged. “I’m not naive enough to think he’ll accept this so easily. It’s going to get...rough, I’m sure. All we can do is...explain as best we can. And hopefully, one day, he’ll come around.”

Dean snorted. Highly doubtful, but Castiel was right. They had to face this and whatever happened, happened. Castiel would be with him and that alone gave Dean some semblance of peace. Nothing truly awful would happen with him there.

“You calm down some now?” Castiel murmured into his hair.

“Guess so,” Dean mumbled.

“You want to go back to sleep?”

“Couldn’t possibly sleep now.”

“Want me to make some breakfast and feed you in bed?”

Dean paused. “Yes.”

\----

The house looked normal enough. No visual implication of imminent explosion. John wasn’t sittin on the porch with a shotgun in his lap. No cop cars swarming them. It was quiet, like the calm before the storm.

“That’s a little dramatic, Dean.”

Dean blushed, having not realized he’d been speaking out loud, and cleared his throat. “What, you don’t sense it? The impending doom?”

Castiel sighed and took his hand. “He’s your father, Dean. Give him a little credit. He’ll at least listen.”

“Mmm….”

“Okay, well...whether he listens or not, we have to do this.”

Dean took a deep breath and opened the door of the car, looking back at Castiel. “You should go. Save yourself.”

Castiel chuckled and got out of the car, going around to the trunk to grab Dean’s bags. “I am not leaving, Dean.”

“Oh, god,” Dean stopped, scrubbing a hand down his face. “What if Sammy’s in there? What’s he gonna think? Oh, god-”

“Dean.” Castiel stopped in front of him. “John is your father. Sam is your brother. They both love you very much. This won’t be easy, but they’ll forgive you. So please...try to focus on the now.”

Dean took another deep breath and nodded, and they started toward the door. He held the screen door open for Castiel, who stepped through with his bags, and followed him inside. The house was eerily quiet as well, and weirdly clean, considering Dean hadn’t been there to clean it in several days. He looked warily up at Castiel, who looked annoyingly stoic.

“Maybe he’s not home,” Dean whispered hopefully.

“His truck’s outside.”

“Well, maybe-”

“Dean?” John’s voice came from the living room, his tone giving no clues away as to his current mood, state of mind, or level of inebriation.

“Y-yeah, dad. It’s me.”

“C’mere.”

Dean looked up at Castiel with wide eyes. Castiel sat his bags at the door and motioned him forward, falling into step just behind him, a comforting hand on the small of his back. They rounded the corner to the living room, where John was sitting in his chair, the tv on and the sound down low, a mostly drained glass of whiskey in his hand. The bottle by his side was almost full, though, so it didn’t seem like he’d been at it long.

He looked up at them with a blank expression, the frown coming a few seconds later.

“What the hell are you doin’ in my house?”

Dean looked back at Castiel, who pressed his lips together as he stepped forward. “John, I-”

“I got nothin’ to say to you.”

Castiel paused before starting again. “I understand how it looks-”

“I don’t think you do,” John said roughly, downing his glass. “Made a fool of me. And even worse, what the hell can I do? I have to work for you. I can’t say a damn thing without worrying about what the hell I’m gonna do when I lose my job, and I can’t afford for that to happen with two boys to take care of.” He paused, huffing a humorless laugh as he poured himself another drink. “Or one. I guess you’re takin’ care of the other one yourself, huh?”

Castiel stared hard down at the floor as he bit his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose as he looked back up at John, doing his best to unclench the fists at his sides. “I can assure you, your _job_ is not in danger. You can speak freely to me. I’m not here as your boss.”

“Yeah?” John turned to him, cocking a brow. “Then fuck you.”

“Dad-”

“You and I are gonna talk about this later, Dean,” John said gruffly, waving his glass at him. He looked back at Castiel, scoffing and shaking his head. “We were _friends_ , Novak. I invited you into my home, and you-”

“With all due respect, John, Dean is 18 and can make his own decisions,” Castiel said firmly. “I understand you’re upset, and I can assure you that when I started attending dinners here with your family, I never intended- or imagined- being where I am today. I’m sorry for betraying your trust as a friend, but what’s happening here isn’t a crime. You may not understand it, you may not like it, but I love Dean.  I know _you_ love Dean. All I can ask is that you try to understand that while this was not our plan, we don’t regret it. You can hate me all you want, but don’t take it out on your son.”

John sat his glass down hard and pushed himself out of his chair. “So all this about jobs and internships is bullshit. All that shit you both fed me was just a ruse for you to get my _son_ into your bed.”

“That's not-”

“That why you're alone? You have to manipulate a young boy into sleeping with you?”

“Dad he didn't _manipulate_ me!” Dean blurted, cheeks reddening as John turned his scowl to him. “He… if anything, _I_ pursued _him._ ”

Castiel shook his head. “Dean, don't-”

“No, I refuse to let him believe any of this is one-sided,” Dean said, looking back and forth between them. “I love him, too. He didn't trick me, or manipulate me. I… _want_ to be with him.”

John set his jaw, clenching and unclenching, holding tightly to his chair. “I didn't even know that you… that you’re…” he paused and closed his eyes. “You never _said_ anything.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that?” Dean asked, chewing his lip.

“You just _tell_ me,” John snapped. “I'm your father. How is me finding out this way better? And not only that, but that you're _fucking_ my boss? That's _my_ age? Christ, Dean.”

“I'd appreciate you not reducing our relationship to such a crude oversimplification,” Castiel said lowly, features set hard.

“Wasn't talkin’ to you,” John spat, glaring back at him. “And you need to get the fuck out of my house.”

Castiel sighed and looked at Dean. “I'll go if you want me to.”

John spoke before Dean had the chance to answer, taking a step toward Castiel.

“You'll leave because I _told_ you to.”

“Dean and I are in this together, and if he needs me here, I'm not leaving,” Castiel said simply.

“The fuck you aren't,” John growled, surging forward to grab Castiel by the collar of his shirt.

“Dad!” Dean yelled, attempting to push them apart. “Stop-”

“I said to get the _fuck_ out of my house,” John ground out, his face inches from Castiel's. Castiel, to his credit, let his arms hang limply at his sides, keeping his face carefully neutral.

“Only if Dean asks me to,” Castiel repeated.

John pushed Dean back and launched a fist forward quicker than Dean had the chance to recover, and Castiel stumbled back into the wall, his hand shooting up to rub his jaw. John immediately started toward him again, and Castiel made no move to leave, so Dean lodged himself between them.

“Leave, Cas,” Dean said desperately, pushing against John's chest, who was still zeroed in on Castiel. “Please-”

“Dean, are you s-”

“Yes! Go!”

Castiel paused for another beat before nodding, covering his mouth as he turned and left. Dean pushed against John as the man tried to follow him, still glaring over Dean's shoulder.

John tried to move past him, but Dean pushed hard at his chest, making him stumble back. John turned his furious, slightly drunken gaze to Dean, raising his fist in an automatic defense.

“What?” Dean spat, his whole frame shaking, hoping his voice didn’t actually sound like the scared little boy he felt like he was. “You gonna hit me, too? Do it!”

John blinked, faltered, his hand lowering when he realized what he was doing. He shook his head, swallowing roughly. “Dean, I-“

“Do it!” Dean shouted, hoping to hell Sam wasn’t home to hear all of this. “You controlling, homophobic piece of-“

“Dean, no!” John ran a hand through his hair. “I never- I’m _not_ -“

“The hell you aren’t!” Dean shoved past him, stomping to his room and grabbing the first duffel bag he saw.

“Dean, stop.”

“No, fuck you,” Dean’s hands shook as he grabbed the nearest pair of jeans and shirts. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”

“So where the hell are you gonna go?”

“Cas’s,” Dean said in a clipped tone.

“The _fuck_ you are,” John took a step forward. “I don’t want anywhere near that pervert. To think he had his hands on _my boy_ all these years-“

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Dean shook his head, packing the last of the essentials and pushing past John as he stalked towards the door. John was on his heel, making a grab for Dean’s arm.

“Boy, you’re not goin’-“

“Take your hand off me or I swear Cas ain’t the only one who is coming out of this with a bloody face.”

John blanched and dropped Dean’s arm, watching his son storm through the door. Dean threw his bag into the Impala and started her up, only sparing John a hard glance before he peeled out of the driveway and down the road.

It seemed like the drive to Cas’s place was a mere blink, and he sat in the fancy driveway wondering how the hell he got there. He rubbed at his face, growling when his hands came away damp, and got out the car. He didn't bother knocking and walked right in, throwing his bag into the formal living room and stomping upstairs. He paused outside of Castiel’s bedroom door, staring at it for a solid five minutes before he knocked softly.

“Cas?” He called out softly, sniffing and wiping at his eyes again.

The door opened a moment later and Castiel immediately pulled him into his arms, resting his chin on the top of Dean's head. Dean buried his face in Castiel's chest and hooked his arms around him, the wetness on his face soaking into Castiel's shirt.

“I'm sorry,” Dean whispered finally, and Castiel gave him a squeeze.

“No need.”

“No, it's...he doesn't- he doesn't get it.”

“Of course not. But he has the right to be angry for now, as long as he doesn't take it out on you. We just… have to let him be angry for awhile.”

“Why are you _so-”_ Dean gritted his teeth, then sighed softly. He pulled back and looked up at Castiel, gently touching his jaw.. “Let me see.”

It was red and swollen, his lip split and swollen as well. He'd cleaned it up a little and the residual blood had dried, some of it caked along the split.

“Jesus, Cas. Why'd you say anything? I could've handled it.”

“I wasn't going to let you do it alone,” Castiel shrugged, kissing his hand. “And I… understand what it seems like to him. I don't blame him. I just don't want you ever thinking that's how I've ever seen you. I see you as an equal and as a partner. Not as someone to be taken advantage of. Even before, when it was just the contract-”

“I know that.” Dean frowned, looking past Castiel to the bed. He tugged his hand, leading him to the bed, making him sit. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, running it under warm water and returning to dab it gently against his split lip. Castiel just let him, leaning back on his fists and looking up at him.

“You don't have to do that.”

“Want to,” Dean said, laying a hand on Castiel's neck. “It hurtin’ at all? I can go get you some ibuprofen or somethin’.”

“I'm fine, Dean.”

Dean sighed and paused, a finger tapping against Castiel’s neck. “You know,” he said softly. “If we’re gonna do this whole _love_ thing, you’re gonna have to be a bit more open with me.”

“Dean…”

“I’m just sayin’,” Dean shrugged, wiping away a spot of dried blood. “I’m not gonna let you get away with ‘I’m fine’ all the time now.”

Castiel glanced away, his jaw tightening briefly before he let out a breath and nodded. “Yes, it...hurts.”

Dean bit back a smile and let the hand holding the washcloth fall. “Would you like some medicine?”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded and quickly fetched a bottle of ibuprofen from the cabinet in the bathroom, grabbed a glass of water, and brought it back over to Castiel. Castiel tipped his head back and swallowed it all in one go, grimacing slightly as the pills slid down.

“Thank you,” he said a bit begrudgingly.

Dean just smiled and kissed the unharmed side of his face. Castiel sighed and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him forward and pressing their cheeks together.

“Are you alright?”

Dean snorted and closed his eyes. “Not even a little.”

“You’re going to stay here.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean nodded shyly. “If that’s...okay.”

“Of course it is,” Castiel scoffed. “I...I always want you here. When you’re gone, this place can get a little lonely.”

“Well, you know, you didn’t have to buy the biggest house in Lawrence, either,” Dean shrugged.

Castiel frowned up at him. “You think it’s too much?”

“I think…” Dean looked around the room thoughtfully. “I think it’s too big for just you, yes.”

“And what about you?”

“I think it’s too big for just you and me, yes.”

Castiel laughed, pulling Dean in by his waist. “So what are you saying? We need something smaller?”

Dean shrugged again. “Not...necessarily.”

“Mmm.” Castiel laid back and tugged Dean down beside him, wrapping one arm around him and taking his hand. “I could maybe buy us a little cabin in the mountains...perhaps a cottage on the beach...hmm...maybe both eventually, so you could choose which one at any given time.”

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “First of all, that is completely unnecessary. And second...I need to be here as long as Sammy is.”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, sighing softly. “Dean-”

Dean laid fingers gently over Castiel’s lips for a second, replacing them with his own lips.

“Not right now, Cas,” he said when he pulled away. “Please. Gotta process for awhile.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and nodded, pressing another kiss to Dean’s fingers.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he sighed.

“Why? Not your fault.”

“It is,” Castiel frowned. “I knew this could happen. Getting involved with someone so young is complicated enough, but add that fact that your father works for me and that you still live with him...I should have stopped this before it started.”

Dean swallowed and pulled back, searching Castiel’s face. “Are...are you saying you regret this?”

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “I’m saying that despite all those reasons to not pursue this, I did anyway and am responsible for what you’re going through now. I regret the pain you’re in and my selfishness.”

“Stop putting all of this on you,” Dean huffed. “It took two to be in this relationship, Cas. I never actually thought I could keep this from dad forever. He was bound to find out and I knew he’d explode. It’s not really anyone’s fault. It is what is is.”

Castiel reached up and stroked Dean’s cheek, licking his lips. “You seem awfully calm about your father kicking you out of your home.”

“He didn’t,” Dean shrugged. “I left. He doesn’t want me there and I don’t want to be there.”

“Did he say he didn’t want you there?”

Dean shifted and looked away. “Well, no. But I couldn’t stand the judgement, all the crap he saying about you. I knew if I stayed he’d never let me out of his sight again.”

Castiel was quiet for a long time, so long that Dean finally peeked up at him again to see him staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“What?”

Castiel looked down at him, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t say anything _out loud_.”

Castiel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “It’s...nothing, just...he’s angry, Dean. It’s understandable at first. I understand why he’s angry with me, and I expected as much. But you...you’re his son. He loves you. He may not understand this right now, but he will come around, if not for anything else, then for you. You...know that, right?”

Dean fidgeted with one of the buttons on Castiel’s shirt. He shrugged.

“Dean.”

“Dunno how it’s all gonna end up being okay,” Dean muttered, frowning. “Can’t imagine he’s happy about me...not being straight. And he hit you.”

Castiel chuckled. “If he hadn’t have hit me, I would’ve felt like I got off too easy, if I’m being honest. I’ll get over it. Like I said, I don’t blame him.” He grunted as he pulled Dean on top of him, hugging him tightly against his torso. “And I think John is more than capable of learning to be okay with you not being exactly who he thought you were. I think that- in the long run- John is going to be happy for you if you’re happy. Don’t give up on him just yet, sweetheart.”

Dean sighed and pressed his cheek to Castiel’s chest. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Can I stay in here with you? I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “Dean, we’ve said ‘I love you’ and are already making plans for a possible future home. You sleeping in my bed is no longer a big concern for me.”

“Alright, smartass,” Dean nudged his side. “I expect a giant waffle smothered in butter and syrup when I wake up just for that.”

“That’s not healthy at all.”

“I’m 18,” Dean said smugly. “I can eat whatever I want and it just melts off.”

“Fine,” Castiel rolled his eyes. “But you’re getting a healthy lunch.”

“Only if you feed it to me.”

“Deal.”

\----

“So, you just...live there now?”

Dean sighed and his head fell back onto his pillows. Or, Castiel’s pillows. Theirs? Whatever.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he muttered, picking at his nails, his shoulder pressing the phone to his ear. “Sorry you found out like this, kid. I wanted to tell you, but...well, obviously it was kind of sensitive information.”

“No, I get it,” Sam sighed. “It’s, uh, a little...weird. He’s, like, old.”

Dean made a face and rolled his eyes. “He’s really not, Sammy. And before dad starts feeding you shit, this didn’t start when he moved here. He doesn’t touch little boys.”

“I know that,” Sam snorted. “It’s just a lot, you know? We’ve known him since we were kids.”

“You’re still a kid.”

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam laughed, going quiet a few moments later. “So, are you just...not coming back?”

Dean rubbed at his eyes. “No, Sammy, I’m not. Not to move back in, anyway. I’ll come see you, but I can’t live with him anymore. It’s gonna be rough for a while, but I’m still your big brother. He can’t change that.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Sam sighed, and Dean could hear a tapping through the phone, a nervous tic that Dean recognized. “You know, I think dad misses you.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah. Bet he does. He has to do all the cooking and cleaning and everything himself now.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Sam said quickly. “Like, I came home from school the other day and he was just...standin’ in your doorway. But he didn’t say anything, he just...stood there for awhile, then he closed the door and went to his room and I didn’t see him until dinnertime.”

“Well. He ain’t tried to reach out to me.”

“You know how dad is.”

“That’s kinda the problem, innit?” Dean asked, staring up at the ceiling. “Look, Sammy. I’m about to start school in a month. I was gonna be leaving there anyway. I don’t want things to be like this with me and dad but if he can’t accept this-”

“I know, I get it.”

Dean paused, chewing his lip. “How are you and Jess doin’?”

“We’re fine, but we’re not talkin’ about me and Jess right now.”

“Fair enough.” Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m willing to talk to dad if and when he’s ready to talk to me about everything without losing his fucking mind. And definitely without drinking.”

Dean looked up when he heard the shower shut off and the curtain pull back. The door to the bathroom was half open and he caught a glimpse of Castiel’s dripping body before it was sadly covered with a towel.

“He hasn’t picked up a drink since you left.”

Dean snorted and stretched out on the bed. “I’ve been gone little more than a day, Sam.”

“It’s still something.”

“Who is that?” Castiel poked his head out, his hair damp and sticking up every which way. Dean wanted to run his fingers through it.

“Sammy,” Dean grunted.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Nothin’. Cas says hi.”

“Oh, uh...hey. Uh, Cas.”

Dean rolled his eyes and sat up. “You don’t have to be awkward around him, Sam. He’s still the same guy.”

“Yeah, but he now he’s- you’re-”

“Hey, watch it,” Dean growled. “Listen, I gotta go, okay? I’ll try to come see you this weekend.”

After they hung up, Dean finally crawled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. He playfully shoved Castiel aside to get to his toothbrush.

“So, how is Sam?” Castiel asked as he tried and failed to tame his hair.

“He’s okay, I guess,” Dean shrugged, squeezing out some toothpaste. “It’s, you know, a little weird for him, but he doesn’t think you took advantage or whatever.”

“Well,” Castiel sighed, giving up on his hair. “I guess that’s something.”

“Better than dad’s reaction, anyway,” Dean snorted, scrubbing his teeth while Castiel meandered into his ridiculously huge closet to search for clothes. It was strange for Castiel to be going to work while Dean stayed home. He felt like a 50’s housewife or something. “Speaking of dad, good luck with all that today.”

Cas hummed noncommittally. “What’s your agenda today?” he asked as he glanced over his suits, tongue poking out thoughtfully.

“Oh, I dunno,” Dean spat out some toothpaste into the sink. “Probably catch _The View_ , eat some brownies...oh, and the baby has a playdate.”

“You’re hilarious,” Castiel said dryly, finally picking out a dark blue suit and laying it over the bed. “Also, that’s a very negative stereotype.”

“Don’t get PC on me,” Dean wiped his mouth off with a towel and stepped out of the bathroom. He went into the closet and picked out a tie, laying it next to the suit. “You sound like a whiney blogger.”

“Oh, yeah?” Castiel grabbed his arm as he tried to walk away, pulling him close and tightly gripping his chin as he tipped his head up to look at him. “I’ll tell you what you _can_ do. There is a completely ridiculous and unbelievably revealing...outfit...that I couldn’t stop imagining you in laid out in the den. I get home at four. I’d like you to be wearing it.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “I’m not your Sub anymore.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

Dean chuckled nervously, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s middle. “Well. I’m not _just_ your Sub anymore.”

“So is that a yes?”

Dean pretended to mull it over, tilting his head to the side when Castiel let go of his chin. “I suppose so. Where do you want me?”

“Surprise me.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Okay.” He grinned. “I think I’m gonna like this.”

Castiel bumped their foreheads together. “Good. Cause it’s killing me.” He grinned before pressing their lips together, then walked Dean backward to the bed and laid him out, kissing down his body. He pushed his shirt up to kiss down his torso, slow and wet on his skin, finally mouthing along his cock through his pants as Dean’s fingers tangled in his damp hair. He didn’t pull away until Dean was breathless, smirking as he shrugged on his shirt.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” Dean muttered, palming his hard cock.

“Watch that mouth, sweet boy,” Castiel said, “...if you want to come later.”

Dean growled and spread his legs, dipping his hand inside his waistband-

“No, none of that,” Castiel clicked his tongue. “No orgasming when I’m not here, boy. You wouldn’t want to deprive me, would you?”

Dean huffed and flopped his hands to the side, glaring at the ceiling. “...fine.”

Castiel cleared his throat and raised a brow.

Dean licked his lips. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Dean sat up and helped Castiel with his tie, otherwise it was bound to come out a little crooked. Castiel put on his pants and shoes, then patted himself down to make sure he had everything. Dean walked him to the door and kissed him sweetly, grinning cheekily.

“Bye, honey. Have a good day at work.”

“Stop that,” Castiel lightly slapped him in the cheek. “Or I’m going to put you in an apron and nothing else. Make you bake me a pie.”

Dean blinked and smirked. “Is that supposed to be punishment? Cause it sounds awesome.”

Castiel didn’t deem that worthy of a response. He just snorted and turned, getting into his car and giving Dean one last wave before he drove out of sight.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone: I finally finished reading Four Letter Word for Intercourse by bendingsignpost and I want to HIGHLY recommend it to all of you. I think I'll be giving Stiletto my attention next, per the recommendation from you guys.
> 
> Also, in case anyone cares (but I'm going to tell you anyway because I'm excited about it), today is my fourth day on meds and I feel FANTASTIC. Seriously. Better than I've felt in years.
> 
> Anyway, have some smut and fluff.

A thong.

A black, lacy, leaves-nothing-to-the-imagination,  _ women’s _ thong. That’s all Cas left for him in the den. 

Oh, and a  _ collar.  _ A thin strip of black leather with a metal hoop in the front.

_ What. The fuck. _

“The fucking  _ asshole _ ,” Dean said, probably for the hundredth time as he held the skimpy fabric in his hands. He could just imagine Castiel sitting in his office with the cockiest smirk in the world, knowing what he was expecting waiting for him when he got home.

Not that Dean wouldn’t oblige. Of course he would. 

“The fucking asshole,” Dean repeated, shaking his head as he stripped down to nothing and pulled the flimsy lace up his thighs, carefully situating his cock and balls as comfortably as he could. He clicked his tongue as he wrapped the collar around his neck and secured it, walking through the door into Castiel’s bathroom and standing in the mirror. He adjusted the collar, then turned from one side to the other, refusing to admit to himself that his ass did look  _ really good  _ in the stupid underwear. 

And one more time couldn’t hurt.

“The  _ fucking asshole.” _

\----

Dean had a hell of a time picking his spot. He didn’t choose the den, because that was obvious. He opted out of the kitchen because he just didn’t like the idea of his bare ass where they prepared food. He almost chose the living room, but with his luck Castiel would bring home an unexpected guest or Ana would decide to show up. He stared at Castiel’s bed for a good 20 minutes before deciding against that, too. For some reason he wanted to keep Castiel’s bed out of their play and perhaps leave it for only their  _ couple _ time and not their Dom and Sub time. 

Dean finally decided on  _ his _ bedroom, partly to live out his teenage fantasy and partly because Castiel wouldn’t expect it, therefore making him grumpy and adorable when he did finally find Dean. 

Dean chose his position carefully, laying stretched on his stomach, spreading his legs to show off what the thong wasn’t really hiding in the first place. He faced away from the door, propped up in his elbows as he idly flipped through a book. Casual. Like he hasn’t been waiting for his Dom to come home all day. 

He smirked to himself when he heard the front door open and close shortly after 4, and fidgeted with nervous anticipation when he heard Castiel's steps on the stairs and down the hall. A couple of doors opened and closed again, then the footsteps stopped, starting up again a moment later, certain and deliberate. 

Dean pulled an innocent face when the door opened, waiting until he heard Castiel's sharp intake of breath to turn to look at him. 

“Welcome home, daddy,” he said sweetly, pushing back onto his knees. 

Castiel stared for a moment before gathering himself and pushing the door closed behind him. He loosened his tie as he walked toward him, eyes shamelessly roaming Dean's body. He reached out and touched Dean's ankle, ghosting his fingers up his leg and along the curve of his ass, flattening his hand as he slid it up Dean's back. 

“Don't you look beautiful,” Castiel whispered, giving the collar a small tug. “And to think, all the daydreaming I did today about you wearing this didn't even begin to do the real thing justice.”

“Daydreaming, huh?” Dean licked his lips and looked over his shoulder. “Did you get any actual work done?”

Castiel hummed and skimmed his fingers back down Dean’s spine, smirking when goosebumps followed in his wake. “Not as much as I should have,” he admitted, “But I’m the boss, so it hardly matters.” 

“Arrogant.” 

“I’ve earned some arrogance.” Castiel shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed, flattening his hand over the curve of Dean’s ass, squeezing. “Fuck, you look good like this. Have you ever worn parties before?”

Dean squirmed with a blush and ducked his head. “Once. Girl named Rhonda thought it’d be fun and I wanted to get laid, so…” 

Castiel chuckled and popped his finger under the thin strap of the thong, giving it a tug. “I think your ass was made for it, sweet boy. I may have you wear more of these in the future. Do you like them?”

Dean swallowed and nodded, shifting on the bed. “Yes, daddy,” he whispered, and was a bit shocked how honest that was. 

“Why?”

Dean was thrown off slightly by the question, but quickly recovered. “I...it feels, um. Good. On my cock.” 

“Mmm,” Castiel leaned forward and placed a kiss on a perfectly round cheek. “Do they make you feel pretty?”

Dean blushed and hid his face in the pillow. “Y-Yes,” he said quietly, voice muffled. 

“Well you look  _ very _ pretty. My pretty boy.” Castiel stood and tapped Dean gently on his back. “C’mere. I want you to undress me.”

Dean moved to the edge of the bed, sitting up on his knees. 

“First thing’s first, though,” he said with a smile, laying his hands on Castiel’s cheeks to pull him in for a kiss. Now that they were  _ officially  _ together, now that Dean could kiss him whenever he wanted, he didn’t plan on wasting any opportunities. 

Castiel returned it, his large hands falling to Dean’s waist, eyes closed, tilting his head to the side when Dean ran his fingers through messy hair and tugged gently. Castiel pulled him in close, flattening his hand on the small of his back to do so, Dean barely suppressing a moan when he felt Castiel’s cock already hard under his slacks. He pulled back a little breathlessly, and obviously before Castiel was ready to stop, his eyes still closed, leaning forward slightly to chase his lips. 

Dean loosened his tie some more and let it hang around his neck as he started on the infuriating buttons of his shirt, finally pushing it off his shoulders to reveal smooth, tanned skin. He tossed the shirt and the tie to the side, immediately starting on Castiel’s belt, looking up at him innocently with his lip pulled between his teeth.

“Been waiting all day for this,” Castiel murmured, cupping Dean’s jaw as he leaned down to kiss him again. Dean worked his pants open as their tongues mingled, his heart rate picking up when he heard the slacks hit the floor, hands scrambling to push his briefs down to his ankles as well.

Castiel chuckled as he stepped out of the clothes, immediately taking Dean’s face between his hands and lowering him back down to the bed as he crawled up with him. Dean shivered as his own cock rubbed against the lace of the underwear, and his breath hitched as Castiel slid his hand down to cup his cock through the material. 

“I want you to come all over this pretty material,” Castiel said lowly, thumbing Dean’s slit through the lace. He kissed him again before sitting up on his knees and tapping Dean on the thigh, indicating for him to roll over. “Lemme get a good look at my boy’s sweet pussy. Mmm, there it is…” he pulled the thong to the side to reveal Dean’s hole, holding him open as he dipped down and speared him with his tongue. Dean moaned and lowered his forehead to his arm, rocking slightly as Castiel fucked him with his tongue, occasionally rubbing his cock through the lace.

“Look so good, pretty baby,” Castiel murmured, pressing a finger against his hole. Dean’s breath hitched and he arched his back as he looked back at Castiel, mouth hanging open, eyes lidded, pressing back against the man’s hand in a desperate attempt to entice him.

Castiel pulled the bottle of lube from the bedside table and slicked his own cock, dripping a few more drops against Dean’s hole and spreading it over his rim with a finger.

“I want you to ride daddy’s cock,” he said as he tossed the bottle to the side, holding his cock at the base with one hand and stroking Dean’s chin with the other. “I want you to ride my cock until you come on it, and I want you to tell me how much you _ love _ taking daddy’s cock.”

Dean groaned loudly at just the thought, his face red, and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, daddy,” he breathed, wetting his lips. 

Castiel smirked, blue eyes so dark and hungry they looked almost black, and he unhooked Dean’s chin. He situated himself on his back, thick cock jutting between his thighs proudly, the head glistening with pre-cum. Dean whimpered needily and quickly got to his hands and knees. He crawled over Castiel’s body and hovered his twitching hole over his cock, rubbing the head against the opening. The thong hung on him skewed and Castiel reached out to pluck at the material, snapping it against Dean’s skin. Dean twitched, blush deepening. 

“Come on, boy,” Castiel growled, impatience flashing in his eyes.

Dean shuddered and nodded, bracing himself on Castiel’s chest as he slowly sank down on that huge cock, groaning as it stretched him wide. He didn’t realize he wasn’t breathing until Castiel was fully sheathed inside and Dean inhaled deeply, his thighs quivering.

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Castiel grabbed Dean’s hips and held him tight, nails biting into the skin. “You look so fucking beautiful, my sweet boy.”

“Daddy,” Dean whispered, his eyes fluttering.

“No, baby, eyes on me,” Castiel slapped his thigh gently. 

Dean snapped his eyes opened and rolled his hips, both of them moaning at the feel. He didn’t waste anymore time, rising up just enough to leave the head inside before he dropped back down, impaling himself deep and hard. 

“ _ Fuck _ , that’s good,” Dean choked, starting a hard pace, bouncing himself tirelessly, their skin slapping. 

“You love my cock, don’t you, boy?” Castiel asked roughly, hips lifting up as Dean shoved himself down.

“Yes,” Dean cried, the angle hitting hard, making him see stars. “I love it, daddy. Love this fat cock filling me up, making me stretch so wide. You fuck me so fuckin’ good, daddy- I want it all the- all the t-time-” Dean faltered, his pace quickening, his neglected cock bouncing between them. He didn’t need to be touched, could feel his orgasm already building into something big, his balls tightening and his passage clamping down on the cock dragging in and out of him.

Castiel gripped his hips hard, leaving bruises in their wake that Dean barely noticed through the haze of his impending orgasm. He pulled Dean down and buried his cock deep, circling his hips. Dean moaned, his head falling back and eyes fluttering, but Castiel brought him back with a gentle tap on his cheek, then a rougher one against his backside that drew a small yelp.

“Don’t get lazy on me, boy,” Castiel ground out, but his voice had begun to waver. “C’mon now. Ride daddy’s cock like the good boy I know you are.”

_ “Ohhh, daddy _ ,” Dean groaned, summoning what little strength he had left to barely assist Castiel in fucking him. He planted his feet and made a valiant effort, but even then he was mostly just hanging on as Castiel pumped into him. 

“Let  _ me _ ,” he insisted, inwardly smug that Castiel was taken off-guard enough to raise his eyebrow and slow the movement of his hips. Dean braced himself with his hands on Castiel’s chest, focusing on lifting himself up and dropping down at a steady pace, doing his best to keep the man’s gaze. 

“That’s my boy,” Castiel murmured, delivering a swift slap on Dean’s ass. “ _ Nnngg,  _ yeah, that’s it...love the way you fit around me…”

Dean arched his back and ground down as hard as he could, gasping when Castiel slid a hand up his torso and tweaked his nipple. He continued to brush a thumb over the hardened bud as Dean rocked on top of him, one steady guiding hand on his hip keeping him moving. 

Dean was breathing hard now, his mouth hanging open in a desperate attempt to drag in air. His thighs screamed, burning with every movement, but he didn’t dare stop. Too addicted to the feel of Castiel inside and refusing to let his daddy down. His fingers clawed at Castiel’s chest, leaving red trails in their wake. It was probably the first time he’d ever really marked Castiel and Dean couldn’t help staring down at the scratches, feeling proud and possessive. He wondered if Castiel would mind, but the man hardly seemed to notice,  his gaze fixed on Dean’s eyes. 

Dean pushed off and leaned back, his hands gripping Castiel’s thick thighs and his legs spreading wide, giving Castiel a full view as he continued to move. Castiel choked and Dean felt his dick twitch inside. He bit back a smirk and clenched around him, listening to the sharp intake of breath and feeling another hard twitch. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” Castiel gripped Dean’s leg tightly, digging in, the other hand on his lace-covered cock. “Look at this pretty cock of yours, boy. And that tight little pussy, squeezing me so well…”

Dean groaned, his head falling back, his balls tightening. He wasn’t sure what it was; the position, the words, the way Castiel’s cock hit deep inside. It didn’t matter. Dean was suddenly coming, his release thoroughly soaking the thong. He choked, too out of breath to cry out, his hips stuttering and his arms trembling.

Castiel slammed up into him, forcing air out of his lungs, and seconds later Dean felt warmth spread inside. He clenched around it, his muscles fluttering, enjoying the way Castiel twitched and kicked inside him. 

_ “Jesus _ ,” Castiel said breathlessly, punching a long groan out of Dean when he pushed his cock deep and circled his hips. He hummed when he skimmed a hand down Dean’s front, stopping at the soiled thong, rubbing his thumb over the wet lace. 

“That’s beautiful, baby,” he murmured, raising his thumb to his lips to taste Dean’s release. He closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively, motioning Dean toward him. 

Castiel grabbed his head and pulled him up to him, pressing their lips together and immediately pushing his tongue inside. Dean groaned into his mouth, his hands finding their way into Castiel’s perpetual bedhead and tugging gently.

Castiel rolled Dean onto his back and covered his body with his own, his solid weight pushing him into the mattress as he kissed him thoroughly. It quickly melted into something more gentle, more intimate, Castiel caressing his face, tongue teasing.

“I love you, Dean,” he whispered against his lips, in between kisses. “I love you, so much..”

Dean chuckled softly as he pulled back for air. “You broke character,  _ daddy _ .”

Castiel hummed as he went in for another kiss, smiling against Dean’s lips. “I can go back, if you’d like.”

“Don’t bother, you’ve shattered the illusion,” Dean sighed.

“Oh, my apologies,” Castiel kissed down his neck lazily, smiling when Dean arched beneath him. “Will you forgive me?”

“Mm, I dunno.”

Castiel looked up, his chin resting on Dean’s chest, his eyes downturned and his lip just barely poking out. Dean’s eyes widened.

“Stop that.”

Castiel blinked, his eyes looking even sadder if it were possible. “Stop what?”

“ _ That _ ,” Dean waved his hand at him and tried to look away, but the hurt puppy gaze was too strong. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I’m simply looking at you,” Castiel murmured.

“Jesus, fine,” Dean huffed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I forgive you.”

Castiel’s lips split into a smug grin and he kissed Dean softly. 

“Jackass,” Dean mumbled, earning a pop on his thigh that stung more than it should have.

“Watch that mouth, boy,” Castiel growled. 

“You just had me spewing filth about riding daddy’s big cock,” Dean shot back, a blush tinging his cheeks. 

“Yes, because that pleases me,” Castiel raised a brow. “And you get off on dirty talk. Dirty talk is nice. Jackasses are not.”

Dean had no argument for such weird logic, so he simply stuck his tongue out like a child and rolled over onto his stomach so he could stretch out his sore legs.

“You really gotta warn a guy before you make him work out like that,” Dean groaned, rubbing his aching thighs. 

“And miss the show?” Castiel grinned, subtly pushing Dean’s legs apart as he massaged the muscles. “This is the best part.”

“Well, I dunno about the  _ best _ part.”

Castiel shrugged and shifted between Dean’s legs as he continued to massage, gradually upward. He leaned down to press innocent kisses to the inside of his thighs, eventually moving up his backside, then gave the thong a playful tug as he frustratingly pulled back again.

“I spoke to John today.”

Dean jerked up and looked back at Castiel, whose expression was carefully neutral, brow slightly furrowed. 

“How do you always do that?”

Castiel’s frown deepened. “Do what?”

“You draw me in with all your dirty talk and just...general  _ Domness,”  _ he flapped a hand at him, “and you wait until I’m  _ really  _ listening, hanging on every word you say, post-orgasm high, doesn’t-have-a-care-in-the-world Dean, and then you pull out the heavy shit and lull me into a deep conversation neither of us wants to have. And about my  _ dad _ , no less. I’m still wearing a woman’s thong covered in my own cum. Can you not?”

Castiel paused, pressing his lips together. He raised his arms out by his sides slightly and dropped them again, finally shaking his head. “So you don’t usually listen to me?”

Dean huffed and half-heartedly pushed Castiel back, flipping himself over to his backside- in hindsight, a little too roughly- and wincing at the soreness. Then finally:

“What did he say?”

Castiel clicked his tongue. “Well. He’s still none too happy with me. I think I’ll take the rest of the week and work at home, give him his space until we can figure something else out.”

Dean nodded. “I’ll later relish in the potential ideas that makes you working from home a very good thing for me.”

“Terrific.” Castiel quirked a smile. “He didn’t say much. He did apologize for my face, so...I suppose that’s about as good as I could hope for in this situation.”

Dean snorted and glanced at Castiel’s cheek and lip. It was hardly noticeable now and Castiel had never uttered anything about the pain. It could be some sense of masculinity, but Dean thought Castiel just didn’t want him to worry.

“I’m surprised you got that much,” he muttered darkly.

Castiel tilted his head, watching Dean silently for a moment. “Have you spoken with him since…?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“No.”

He sighed and stretched out beside Dean, pulling him into his arms and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I’m not going push it, but he is your father. You’ll have to speak to him again at some point.”

“I know,” Dean mumbled, burying his face in Castiel’s neck. “I don’t wanna. He...God, Cas, he was such an ass-”

“Dean, come on,” Castiel sighed. “Put yourself in his shoes for a moment. Imagine what this would have looked like to him. He was just scared for his son, that’s all. Maybe his methods weren’t right, but he was only trying to protect you.”

“But you’re not a fuckin’ pervert.”

Castiel quirked a brow and Dean shrugged.

“Well, okay,” he admitted. “But you’re not a touch-little-boys pervert.”

“He didn’t know that,” Castiel clicked his tongue. “Still really doesn’t. We’ve yet to sit down and discuss this with him.”

“There’s no  _ discussing _ anything with him,” Dean rolled his eyes. “With John, there’s yelling and there’s shouting.”

“Be that as it may,” Castiel pulled back to look him in the eye. “There will come a time when we will need to clear the air, Dean. Especially if we plan on this working. We do, don’t we?”

Dean blinked and looked down, licking his lips and speaking quietly. “Yeah…’course, Cas. I want us to work.”

“Well, there you go, then.”

Dean rolled his eyes again. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Castiel hummed and shifted himself so he could trail kisses down Dean’s back, stopping at the bottom to spread his cheeks. 

“You can’t just eat me out every time you decide it’s time for a conversation to end,” Dean murmured, pushing back against the man anyway. Castiel chuckled darkly and Dean could do little more than moan when the man’s tongue prodded his hole.

\----

“So you ready for school?” Dean asked, tossing a notebook to the side as he plopped down on Sam’s bed. 

Sam sat at his desk on his secondhand laptop, squinting at the screen. “Yeah. Dad took me last week to get my supplies, and I bought my parking pass for whenever I get a car. Bobby offered one of his running cars if I came to work for him a few times a week, since you’ll be leaving.”

“Yeah, he mentioned that,” Dean said absently, looking around Sam’s room. It was just as clean, if not cleaner, than it was when Dean left. The rest of the house was in good shape too, Dean noticed, and the only alcohol that appeared to be in the house was the six pack in the fridge. It wasn’t unlike John to have a bottle or two tucked away just in case, but it  _ was  _ unlike him to not have several open ones sitting on the counter or in the living room.

“So, uh...sure you have everything you need?”

Sam sighed and closed his laptop as he turned to face Dean. “Yes. You don’t have to keep asking me.” He paused, pushing around a pen on his desk. “So how’s, uhh. How’s...Castiel?”

Dean smiled slowly.

“What? It’s still a little weird,” Sam said defensively, shrugging.

“Cas is...uh...Cas is good,” Dean said finally, pushing around new pack of index cards thrown on Sam’s bed amongst all the other supplies. “He’s good.  _ We’re  _ good.”

Sam pressed his lips together and nodded slowly, tapping his fingers against his desk.

Dean raised a brow. “Something you wanna say, Sammy?”

“No,” Sam said quickly, shaking his head. “Nope, nothing.”

“Mmm…”

Sam gave him a strained smile and looked down at his hand, and Dean had just fixated on the index cards again when Sam spoke.

“It’s just that...isn’t it weird? He’s so old-”

“Not that old.”

“-I mean, dad’s age, and you’re...you two are... _ you know _ , and like we’ve both met him before he moved back here and were just too young to remember and that’s  _ crazy _ -”

“Sam-”

“-and I know you say it didn’t start until you turned eighteen but it’s still kinda weird to think about-”

“Trust me, Sam, if I thought I could’ve baited him before I turned eighteen, I would’ve. I never got that vibe from him, not the entire time I had it out for him, long before this began. So no, not weird. And I know how it looks from the outside, but...it doesn’t feel that way to us.”

“But  _ do  _ you know how it looks? Cause you’ve gotta understand how dad sees it.”

Dean sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I know.” He paused with his chin in his hands, then looked up at Sam. “How do you think telling him I’m in love would go over?”

Sam cringed dramatically. “In terms of an argument? I’m imagining not well.”

“Thought so.”

More silence. Dean stared at the floor. Sam tapped his finger anxiously on his desk.

“In love, huh?”

Dean smiled up at his brother. “Yeah. Stupidly.” He tugged nervously at his hair, huffing a laugh. “Pisses me off.”

Sam snorted and bit his lip, looking at Dean with an odd expression. Dean raised his brow, hand dropping from his hair.

“What?”

“Nothin’, just…” Sam shrugged and looked down at his lap, his twiddling his thumbs. “I dunno. It’s just kinda surreal seeing you like this. You say you’re in love and I totally believe it, cause there’s nothing else that would put such a stupid grin on your face.”

“Bitch.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “No, but really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that. I mean...it’s weird for me and I don’t really get what you see in someone so much ol-”

Dean cleared his throat.

“Uh, so much more  _ experienced,”  _ Sam quickly corrected. “But, if he’s really making you happy...then I’m here to support you. And all that mushy crap, as you would put it.”

Dean blinked, taken back by the sincerity in Sam’s voice, and looked down at the mess of index cards. He coughed and nodded, taking a deep breath. “Thanks, Sammy,” he murmured. “That means a lot. And yeah, he really...Jesus, he makes me stupid happy. I could write a whole essay about what I see in him, but all you need to know is that he gives me what I need. Even when I didn’t know I needed it.”

Sam glanced away, at his laptop, at his door, anywhere but at Dean. “Were…” he cleared his throat. “Were you really so unhappy here?”

Dean sighed and laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and laying a hand on his chest. “I dunno, Sammy. I mean, it wasn’t like it was awful, but I can’t honestly say I’ve been happy these last few years. When you hide such a big part of yourself for so long, it starts to get to you. Plus...it’s not your fault and I know that, but I didn’t get much of a childhood. Mom died, dad was useless, so I didn’t have much choice. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of you. It just kinda fell into my lap. Dad...I think he just got used to it? So even when he got better, things didn’t really change for me. Cas, you know, he...well, he kinda takes care of me. I ain’t going into details, but he gives me what I never really got before.”

“You know,” Sam said, looking down at his lap, “since you left, dad’s been good. I think...I dunno, it kinda all makes sense now, hearing your side. ‘Cause now that it’s just me an’ him, seems like he’s...trying more, I guess? Like he knows he doesn’t have you as a crutch, knows he’s gotta do it on his own. Too little too late, now that I’m-”

“You’re still a kid,” Dean insisted.

“Well, yeah, okay. But I don’t need taking care of anymore. Not in the same way.” Sam shrugged. “And now that he’s responsible again, I think he’s realizing what he missed...and what you went through basically alone.”

Dean picked at a piece of lint on his pants, rolling it between his fingers. “Has he said anything to you? About me, or...about Cas?”

“Not a whole lot,” Sam said, tilting his head. “Overheard him on the phone with Bobby the other day, though, tellin’ him about you goin’ to KU. He couldn’t remember the exact thing you were goin’ for, but he...he sounded real proud, Dean.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean looked pointedly at the ball of lint between his fingers, hoping Sam didn’t notice his blush. “I guess I should talk to him soon. ‘S just...dunno what I’m gonna say. I know he’s not gonna wanna hear about me and Cas, but I...don’t really know how to clear the air without talking about it.”

Sam pressed his lips together then shrugged, tapping a finger on his desk. “He may not wanna hear about it, Dean, but he needs to. If thing with Castiel is real-”

“It is.”

“-then he’s gotta get used to it. He doesn’t see how happy it makes you. Maybe if he saw that, he’d at least be tolerant of it. And not punch people in the face.”

Dean raised a brow. “How did you know that?”

“He was icing his hand when I came home,” Sam rolled his eyes. “I think he felt pretty bad about it. Kept mumbling about how he wasn’t a high school bully, whatever that means.”

Dean hummed but didn’t comment. That wasn’t really his business to tell. He doubted that Castiel wanted Sammy knowing that he was a prime target in school for getting the shit beat out of him. John decking him in the jaw probably brought back some memories for Castiel, which just made Dean pissed at his dad all over again.

Dean, instead, changed the subject completely. “That gonna hold up for you?” he asked, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Should,” Sam shrugged, glancing at it. “Dad got a pretty good deal on it.”

“Mm,” Dean sat up. “Let me see it for a day or two. I can probably clean it up a bit. Make it faster.”

Sam grinned and handed it over along with its charger and case. “Awesome! Thanks, Dean.”

“What are computer genius big brothers for?”

\----

“How is Sam?”

Dean sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax. He was laid back against Castiel in the tub as the man ran his hands over his chest, kissing his neck and shoulders. 

“He’s good.”

“Mmm.”

Dean jerked and chuckled when Castiel deliberately ran a hand over one of his nipples and hid his smirk with the next kiss he placed on Dean’s shoulder. 

“What?”

“Wanna elaborate?” Castiel asked softly, sliding his hands back down to Dean’s abdomen and locking them there. 

“It was fine. I dunno.”

Castiel sighed and nosed at his neck, kissing behind his ear. “You’re always the one saying we need to  _ talk  _ more-”

“Which I stand by, Cas, seein’ as though sex doesn’t fix every problem, even if it is  _ exceptionally _ good sex.”

Castiel huffed a laugh. “Fair enough.”

Dean puffed out his cheeks with his exhale and laid his head back against Castiel’s shoulder, looking up at the ceiling. “It went really well. I explained...everything. Y’know, how I felt when I was there, how you make me feel. He knows I still love ‘im and care about ‘im, so that was the important thing.” He chewed his lip. “He wants me to talk to dad.”

“... _ there _ it is.”

“What?”

Castiel ran a hand through Dean’s hair and down his neck, pressing his lips there. 

“In the time we’ve been...what we are, I like to think I’ve learned things about you. Particularly...requests you make that give me small insights on your mood or mental state. For example- and this is a pretty general one- that you tend to want rough and indifferent when you’re feeling self-deprecating. And earlier, you came home wanting me to tie you up, which I’ve noticed tends to happen when you’re particularly anxious about something.”

“You really are a stalker.”

Castiel chuckled, hooking his chin over Dean’s shoulder. “How are you feeling about talking to your dad now?”

Dean groaned in a long suffering manner and closed his eyes. “Why do you insist on making me do adult and responsible things?”

“Because I care.”

Dean scoffed. “Look, I’m gonna talk to him. Based off what Sam said, he’s cooled down some, so…” he shrugged. “I’ll try to go back sometime this week. Talk to him while Sammy’s out. As much as Sam is supportive, I don’t want him there if things get hairy again.”

“Do you expect things to...get hairy?”

Dean shrugged and splashed at the water some. “Maybe. Me an’ him...we’re kinda hard headed.”

“You don’t say.”

Dean snorted and nudged his stomach with his elbow. “If he’s willing to actually listen, there won’t be a problem,” he continued. “Problem is that when John makes his own opinion, he sticks to it. And he’s got it in his head that you took his 16-year-old son to bed, either by force or manipulation. Doesn’t matter to him. Hell, I told Sam if I had even thought I stood a chance at getting you back then I would’ve been all over it. Or, you, rather.”

Castiel smiled in amusement. “Oh?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean nodded firmly. “But I never got that vibe from you. You were the mysterious Mr. Novak, super hot guy that wouldn’t even look twice at me. Told Sam you never did me any harm.”

“You didn’t...tell him about-”

“Fuck no!” Dean said quickly. “No, they don’t need to know how any of this happened or what kinds of...things...I…” he cleared his throat. “Doesn’t matter. The important thing is that they know it wasn’t anything until I was legal and that we love each other.”

“I agree,” Castiel said, dipping a hand under the water between Dean’s legs. Dean drew in a breath as he stroked his cock, half hard already from feeling Castiel’s erection pressing against his backside. He sighed and sank into the touch, stretching his legs as much as he could, skin prickling.

“I don’t know why I tease myself like this,” Castiel murmured against his ear, nipping softly at the lobe. “I should be getting you to bed.”

“I  _ agree _ ,” Dean said enthusiastically, laying his hand over Castiel’s to encourage more pointed stroking.

“But we just...you-”

“Cas!” Dean said, annoyed, turning to straddle Castiel’s lap. “Will you just fuck me already?”

Castiel grinned, taking Dean’s face between his hands and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“To be young again…”

\----

 

School in one week. A new journey, a new experience, a new home. 

Dean stood in their room with his hands on his hips, staring down at the suitcases and clothes strewn all over the bed. He’d been laying in bed for most of the day after Castiel left, knowing that getting up meant he had to be an adult about the reality of starting school the following week, which meant he’d need to pack up the belongings he’d been periodically smuggling from home. He still needed to buy school supplies and books, and he still needed to meet Charlie to go sign the lease to the apartment.

Castiel’s home was only a short drive to and from KU, but Dean was insistent on his own place for his first year of school. He reasoned with Castiel- and himself, if he was being honest- that it was the responsible thing to do, considering that the relationship was still new and Dean wanted to put real concentration into the school that Castiel was so generously offering to pay for. Castiel had reluctantly agreed, but only after teasing Dean for not being resilient enough to handle little distractions. As if it hadn’t taken Dean almost three hours to complete his final paperwork for KU because Castiel couldn’t keep his hands off of him.

Dean sighed, only looking up from his mess when he heard the doorbell ring. He looked at the clock on Castiel’s bedside table- 2:33 p.m. Castiel worked until after four and Anael until after five, with a decent commute. He shrugged and went back to his packing. Maybe the delivery guy. He’d go away.

But the doorbell rang again, and he groaned as he tore himself away from his failed task and pulled on a shirt. He padded down the steps, feet bare, and pulled the door open.

John stood there looking a little apprehensive, finally giving him a small nod and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Dean.”

“Dad? What, uh...what are you doing here?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest, frowning in an attempt to cover any embarrassment from what he felt was an obvious ‘I-was-bent-over-the-kitchen-counter-by-your-boss-this-morning’ face. His dad always had this way of making him feel guilty or ashamed, even when he was so sure he wasn’t.

John, to his credit, either didn’t notice or chose not to comment on Dean’s disheveled state. He cleared his throat and glanced around the large porch, at the big doors and the security camera sitting snugly up in the corner. 

“I…well, son, I wanted to talk to you. Uh, see you. You know, before you went off to college,” John murmured, finally looking back at Dean. “And I...I guess I just needed to make sure you’re okay.”

Dean sighed and rubbed at his eyes, not feeling up to this at all and knowing he had no choice. He’d told Cas he would talk to his dad before he left and had meant that. And really, it was nice gesture that John would come to him instead of the other way around. 

“Yeah...yeah, okay, come on in,” Dean stepped aside and let John through the door. The man took his time, looking around the large home with an air of jealousy and reluctant respect. Dean realized he probably hadn’t been inside since the party and was thinking just how quaint his life and home was compared to Castiel’s. 

“Do you, uh, want a drink or something?” Dean asked, tugging at his very worn shirt as he followed his dad into the formal living room.

“No, no, I’m fine,” John waved him off and sat down, folding his hands in his lap. He kept looking around, as if expecting someone to appear out of the corner of his eye.

“Cas isn’t here,” Dean said in what he hoped was a neutral tone. “Doesn’t usually get home until about 4:30 or so…”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, that’s...that’s fine,” John cleared his throat again and shrugged. “I didn’t come here to start trouble with him, Dean. Came here for you.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, taking a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table. “I’m not coming back home, dad. And anyway, if it makes you feel any better, I’m getting a place with Charlie near the school. Won’t be here.”

“No, I-” John paused, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “That’s not- I mean, that’s good, but- I’m…” he frowned down at the floor, waving a hand. “Um. That’s not what I meant. I wanted...to just talk about things. I don’t like how everything happened and now you’re here and you’re about to start school-” he looked up, clasping his hands between his knees. “I’m real proud of ya, Dean. I didn’t say it before and I should’ve.”

Dean shifts uncomfortably, looking down at his lap. 

“I know that, dad,” he murmured finally.

“Do you?” John asked, surprising Dean. “I mean, I don’t think I was an awful dad, but I wasn’t...really a good one, was I? I never told you how proud I was of you, or how much I appreciated all you did for Sammy. All you did for me.” He nodded and swallowed hard. “Yeah. But I am, Dean. And I did. I do.”

Dean licked his lips and swallowed. “Dad-”

“So I guess I get it, maybe. Why coming here, bein’ with...him...is...um. Preferred.”

Dean blushed and ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck then slid his hand into his hair. “Dad, it’s not...not just that, okay? Yeah, it’s nice not havin’ to cook and clean for everyone all the time, but-” he paused and sighed, speaking slowly. “Dad, I...I love him. I know that might not be what you wanna hear and maybe you think an 18-year-old can’t know what love is. But I do, and he loves me too.”

John pursed his lip and stood, pacing around the large room. “Dean, I- are you sure he actually...it could be just be that you’re...well, younger-”

“Dad, no,” Dean sighed, fighting to keep his cool, rubbing his palms over his thighs. “It’s not like that. I’m not just some...some young piece of ass to him. He- he takes care of me. I met his family. He wants me to live here with him. He- dad, he’s paying for KU.”

John stopped and snapped his head up, eyes wide. “He’s what?”

Dean swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. It’s all paid for. He...well, he gave me the check a while ago. Before I graduated. Before any of...it...started. And before you get crazy ideas in your head, it wasn’t in exchange for sex or anything.”

John blanched and looked away, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “Dean, please-”

“No, dad, I need you to know how serious we are,” Dean stood, approaching John slowly. “We’re a real couple, okay? I’m not a kid anymore. We have sex. We have conversations. We...sometimes we even talk about the future. He talks about his life. About work. He wants me to work for him. This-  _ we _ \- are real. I really need you to see that, even if you don’t like it.”

John looked over at the wall, down at the floor, fixated on the coffee table...anything but looking back at Dean. They were quiet for awhile as Dean let those words sink in, made sure John wasn’t just waiting for him to backpedal so that they could have the easy conversation instead that didn’t involve relationships with a guy your dad’s age, the one that wouldn’t solve any of the problems they were currently experiencing. 

“I feel like I...failed, Dean. I failed at being a good father to you.”

“Why?” Dean said suddenly, immediately defensive. “‘Cause I ended up liking guys too? Or because I ended up with Cas specifically?”

John winced and shook his head, motioning toward him. “No, that’s not what I- shit. Just that I didn’t notice, or ask, or-” he scratched absently at his cheek, “I just feel like I shoulda known more about you. I shoulda asked. That I didn’t know somethin’ like this about my own son, it...I mean, I dunno how I woulda taken it, but...I like to think I coulda been better. That I coulda accepted it in time, and helped you sooner.”

“Oh.”

John chewed his bottom lip, looking down at the floor between them. “I respect your decision, Dean. I don’t understand it yet, and it might take a bit for me to...accept it. But I’m gonna try, ‘cause you’re my son and I love you.” 

Dean didn’t know what the fuck to say to  _ that _ . He felt his ears redden as he looked down, humming distractedly.

“I, uh. Apologized to Castiel the other day. I meant that.”

Dean managed a smile. “I know.”

John sighed. “I didn’t mean to hit him, Dean. I really didn’t. It just...happened. You have to understand, I was-”

“Scared,” Dean nodded, smiling when John blinked at him. “Cas said...well, he said you were just a dad who was scared for his son. He doesn’t hold it against you. We know how this must look from the outside. I promise, dad, he never touched me. It was after my 18th birthday and I...I came to  _ him _ .”

John stared at him hard for a few moments then sighed, shoulders sagging. “Alright, son. I believe you.”

Dean nodded, sighing as well. “Good.”

John looked around and rubbed at his chin. “He, uh, treat you right, I guess? Must be nice, livin’ in such a nice house.”

Dean shrugged, poking his toe at the rug. “Yeah, ‘s nice. Treats me good. Kinda spoiling me, actually. Makes me eat healthy and shit.”

John’s lips quirked into a brief smile. “Ah, so...not as many pies around here then?”

Dean pouted and shook his head. “No. The jackass. Only lets me eat pie once a week. Says I need to eat better. Even tried to get me to go jogging with him, but I told him if he kept buggin’ me about it I wouldn’t suc-” Dean paused, blinked, then said carefully, “uh, cuddle. I wouldn’t cuddle with him.”

John coughed and rubbed his neck. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

John shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Dean. “You happy here?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

John clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side. “That’s that, then.”

“Guess so.”

John nodded slowly. “Well. For what it’s worth, we miss ya at home. Sam said my spaghetti’s not as good and I miss you pickin’ the movies. If I have to watch another one of your brother’s history documentaries anytime soon I might actually start forgetting some of the dialogue from  _ Die Hard. _ ”

Dean snorted. “Consider yourself lucky. The history documentaries are a welcome privilege after sitting through Cas’s nature ones.”

John gave him a small smile and shook his head. “He was always a weird one.”

“No argument there.”

John cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. Uncertain, like he doesn’t want to leave, but doesn’t know how to ask to stay.

“I’m gonna get you a drink, dad,” Dean said, giving him a small smile before heading over to the bar. He poured a small glass of whiskey and took it to John, who accepted with an appreciative murmur and sat down easily on the couch across from Dean. He took a long sip and sat the glass down on his knee, turning it idly. 

They talked randomly after that, mostly catching up on the things in Dean’s life and at the plant- which sounded different coming from someone working in the warehouse as opposed to managerial. Occasionally the conversation would drift back toward him and Castiel, which gave Dean the opportunity to paint the picture of a normal couple better into his dad’s head. It seemed to work, or at least, make things easier for John to digest that way. 

Dean hadn’t realized how long they’d been talking, until John finished his second drink (or was it his third?) and the door opened and closed behind him. He turned to see Castiel standing awkwardly in the foyer, briefcase still in hand and his jacket slung over his arm. He looked like a guest in his own home, nervous and a little skittish. He slowly hung up his coat and sat his briefcase by the door before clearing his throat and taking a few steps into the living room.

“Hello, John. Can I get you a drink?”

“Well, yeah, actually-”

“He’s already had some drinks,” Dean said quickly, blanching slightly.

John huffed a laugh and gave a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah, that’s true. Best not push it. Gotta drive home.” He stared longingly down at his mostly empty glass, then downed the last bit.

Castiel laid his hand on the back of Dean’s chair and looked down at him, mouth quirking into a smile. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

He smiled a little wider and tapped the back of the chair, then moved to his own, sitting down and clasping his hands between his legs. 

“How are you, John?”

John pointedly sat his glass down, though it looked to be very difficult for him to let the last few drops of his drink to go untasted.

“I’m...doing alright,” he said with a small shrug. “Different, you know, without Dean around. But he’s...it’s time he got on with his life. Can’t live with his old man forever. How’s, uh…” John frowned, gesturing at his face a little sheepishly.

“Ah,” Castiel rubbed at his jaw and shrugged. “It’s fine. No real harm done.”

“I’m sorry, again.”

“I know,” Castiel smiled briefly. “I think we both made mistakes with this situation. But, at least for Dean’s sake, we should try to move past the ugliness.”

John inhaled and nodded. “I can...try. This is still very uncomfortable for me, but you seem to make my son happy so…” he shrugged. “It may take a while, but I’ll be okay. Eventually.”

Castiel looked down and took a steadying breath, letting it out slowly. “John, I want you to know, I never forced-”

“I know,” John glanced at Dean, who was watching them both warily. “Dean explained it to me. He’s a smart ki- man. I trust him.”

Castiel relaxed marginally and nodded. “Good. I’m glad you stopped to listen.” 

John nodded then stood, tugging at his shirt. “I, uh, don’t want to take up anymore of your time. I should get on home.”

Castiel stood as well, pressing his lips together. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“No, no…” John shook his head. “I’m… working to be accepting of this, but I’m not really ready to do the whole dinner thing just yet.”

Castiel nodded and Dean thought he looked a little relieved. “Yes, I understand,” he said. “Well, the invitation stands. For whenever you’re ready.”

John forced a smile and nodded, reluctantly sticking out a hand. Castiel shook it, and Dean stood and pulled John in for a hug before he had the chance to be awkward about their goodbye. Soon John was back in his truck and backing out of the drive while Dean and Cas watched from the porch.

“That was, um…” Castiel said slowly, closing the door behind Dean as they made their way back inside, “weird. I mean, better than expected, but-”

“I didn’t know he was coming here,” Dean said, still sort of dazed by the whole unexpected visit.

“He did ask for the day off, but I didn’t think anything of it. Has he been here all day?”

“No, just the last couple of hours,” Dean said, huffing a laugh. “Probably had to work up the courage and swallow the pride before coming to talk to me.”

“Mmm.” Castiel took Dean’s hand and led him into the kitchen, loosening his tie as he walked over to the fridge. “You hungry?”

Dean frowned, sitting down on one of the stools and folding his arms over the counter. “What?”

“Are. You hungry.” Castiel asked very deliberately as he picked through items in the fridge.

“Ravenous,” Dean said cheekily, earning a sigh from the older man.

“I’m not speaking in terms of your libido, Dean.”

“I could eat,” Dean said simply, watching as Castiel pulled leftover chicken marsala out of the fridge. He pulled a plate out of the cabinet and started adding leftovers before Dean spoke again.

“So you’re not going to ask what he said?”

Castiel shrugged as he put the plate in the microwave. “I got the gist.”

“Oh, is this gonna be a game thing? Like you feed me and gently urge me to tell you things in exchange for sex? That will somehow tie into my issues and help me in the end?”

That drew a chuckle, and Castiel leaned against the counter shaking his head before turning to Dean and crossing his arms over his chest. “I fear I’ve become too complacent in our dynamic, and in doing so, encouraged this hedonistic mindset.”

“So what’s your game?”

“There’s no game.” 

“Caaaass-”

“If you want to tell me about it, you can. But I’m not forcing you, and I’m certainly not forcing you to via any sort of sexual outlet.” Castiel raised his eyebrows and nodded once before  turning back to get the food when the microwave chimed. 

“However,” he continued, turning back to place to plate on the counter and motioning Dean over, “I wouldn’t be opposed to some dessert games, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Dean tongued his cheek and walked over, hopping up on the counter and swinging his legs. “Will there be whipped cream?” 

“Well, you certainly can’t have dessert without it.”

Dean smiled and wet his lips. “Then I can definitely get  _ up _ for that.” 

Castiel gave him a  _ look _ that told Dean he didn’t appreciate his lame joke and held up a forkful of chicken. “Open up.” 


	19. Chapter 19

“Do you have everything?” 

Dean sighed and, despite having checked just moments before when Castiel had asked him that very same question for the  _ fifth _ time, checked his bag again before nodding. 

“Yeah.” 

Castiel pursed his lips. “Are you sure? Do you have your student ID? Parking pass? What about-“ 

“Cas.” Dean turned from the bed where his suitcase was all ready to go and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I promise I have everything. You helped me pack, remember?”

Castiel nodded, still looking distressed, and Dean realized this wasn’t really about packing at all. The few days leading up to school had been odd, both of them carefully avoiding the subject of Dean not living there anymore. Sure, he’d only been there a short while, but in that time Dean and Castiel had grown used to the arrangement. Dean secretly thought Castiel liked coming home to him. Especially when he was in his panties and collar, spread out over Castiel’s desk with his ass in the air. 

Good times. 

“You’re gonna miss me,” Dean murmured, pressing a kiss to Castiel’s collar bone. 

“Yes,” Castiel said quietly, hand in Dean’s hair. 

“I’m not that far away.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m still gonna come see you.”

Castiel said nothing, just buried his nose into Dean’s hair. Dean glanced up and slipped a hand underneath Castiel’s carefully tucked shirt, pulling the whole thing out of place. “You think I won’t come see you?” 

Castiel didn’t even bat an eye at his wardrobe coming undone. “I didn’t say that.” 

“Mmm…”

“There…” Castiel paused and licked his lips, “there are a lot of different people to meet at college. Women. Men…”

Dean raised a brow. “So?”

Castiel looked away and sighed deeply, his eyes downturned with heavy bags underneath. “Interesting people. More...energetic.” He glanced back at Dean. “Younger.” 

A slow grin spread across Dean’s face. “You’re worried I’m gonna find someone else?”

Castiel looked like he wanted to argue but no words came out, so he looked down instead.

“Fuck, that’s cute,” Dean said as he started on Castiel’s belt, the shirt now halfway unbuttoned. 

“I’m glad you find it amusing.”

Dean rolled his eyes and unbuttoned Castiel’s pants, sliding his hand down the front to cup his cock as he looked up at him through his lashes, chin resting on his chest. “Not gonna happen, Cas. I don’t want anyone else. Doesn’t matter who they are.”

Castiel sighed and cupped Dean’s face. “That’s an easy thing to say right now-”

“I’m gonna be here-” Dean kissed down his chest, “-every weekend-” down to his waistband, “-and some nights during the week.” He paused, looking back up at him again, trying not to be smug about how Castiel was unconsciously leaning closer and holding the back of Dean’s head.

“Seems to me you may as well just live here.”

“We talked about this.”

Castiel sighed. “Yes, and I do understand. I’m sorry.”

“I wanna be in your bed just as badly as you want me to, Cas,” Dean said sincerely, hooking his fingers into Castiel’s waistband and pulling down both his pants and briefs. He nuzzled coyly at the man’s cock with his cheek, licking teasingly at the head. “And just think of it this way- we can do all sorts of sexy student roleplay…”

“We can do that now,” Castiel pointed out, inhaling sharply when Dean wrapped his lips around the head of his cock. His hand flexed in his hair. 

Dean pulled back off with a  _ pop _ . “Right, but that’s dishonest.”

“Not really,” Castiel said stubbornly, fingers digging into Dean’s scalp as the boy licked a hot trail up the underside of his cock. “You’re considered a student once registered.” He paused and frowned down at Dean. “You  _ did _ register for your classes-“

“ _ Yes _ , Cas,” Dean pulled back and rolled his eyes. “Now, I’m tryin’ to give you a blow job, if you don’t mind.” 

Castiel quirked a smirk and chuckled. “My apologies. Go ahead.” 

“Besides,” Dean huffed, leaning back in the suckle at Castiel’s head and earning a choked inhale as his tongue probed the slit.  “Either way, it’s a stretch. You’re not my teacher.” 

“One might consider me one,” Castiel raised a brow, thrusting his hips shallowly. “I taught you how to be my Sub. Still teaching you, some days.” 

Dean looked up as he suddenly swallowed Castiel whole, feeling smug as the man let loose a loud groan. The hands on the back of his head tightened and pulled him in, effectively jamming that thick cock down his throat. Dean relaxed his jaw and focused on breathing, his tongue teasing the large vein as he swallowed around the girth. 

“And a wonderful teacher you are,” Dean relented breathlessly when Castiel pulled out to give him some air. “No one else could get this kind of work ethic from me.”

Castiel chuckled as he hooked fingers just inside Dean’s mouth to open him wide before shoving his cock back inside. Dean moaned and his eyes rolled back as he swallowed again.

“I suppose I do...worry,” Castiel admitted, watching Dean closely, who was looking up at him innocently even while the man’s cock was halfway down his throat. “The idea of someone else doing this with you...being the one to stretch you open…” Castiel sets his jaw hard, reaching down to stroke Dean’s, “the thought makes me murderous.”

Dean smirked around Castiel’s cock, regretting the action immediately when the man pressed deep and unexpectedly, pulling out when Dean full-on choked. He coughed and gasped for breath, going willingly as Castiel hauled him to his feet and kissed the remaining breath out of him. He was shoved to the bed before he had the chance to react or respond, and Castiel pulled his pants down just enough to allow him to straddle Dean’s chest and push his cock into his open, waiting mouth.

“My mofobe ooh an um-”

Castiel chuckled and pulled back out. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

Dean rolled his eyes and licked his lips. “I suppose you can come stay with me at the apartment when you’re really missing me.”

Castiel rubbed the head of his cock against Dean’s spit-slick lips, humming thoughtfully. “You mean the apartment you’ll be sharing with a friend?”

Dean shrugged. “Charlie’s cool. She likes you. Maybe a little too much, actually.”

Castiel cocked a brow.

“Yeah. She swears she’s gay, but I don’t think she’d turn you down.”

Castiel doesn’t react to that. “So you’re okay with this...Charlie...hearing me dominate you?”

“Well, I mean, maybe we tone it down just a bit when we’re there, so we don’t have to subject her to all that-”

“But I  _ love _ the sounds you make.” He thrusted forward, sliding his cock between Dean’s lips, his eyes going lidded when Dean moaned dramatically around him. “And while I understand that she perhaps doesn’t know the nature of our relationship, she  _ can  _ know that you’re getting fucked properly on what I hope is a very regular basis.” He stroked Dean’s cheek. “Don’t you think she’d be happy for you?”

Dean barely registered what Castiel said before he began snapping his hips hard, bracing his hands against the wall as he fucked into the boy’s mouth. Dean choked and sputtered, breathing erratically as he fought to keep up, working his tongue over the underside of his cock since it was about all he could do. He grabbed Castiel’s thighs and dug his nails in, encouraging the man further, which he absolutely  _ did not  _ need.

In fact, Dean was pretty sure he was going to have a bruise on the back of his throat by the time Castiel was done with him, which he absolutely  _ did not _ mind. 

Castiel came quickly with a choked groan, his hips locking as he pressed himself in deep. Dean choked on the seed forced down his throat, swallowing desperately and moaning around the twitching cock. Castiel tasted as good as always and when the man pulled out to let him breathe, Dean caught the last few drops on his tongue. 

Castiel sat back, panting as he stared down at Dean, eyes blown wide with lust even as his cock softened. He reached down to wipe a few drops from Dean’s chin, placing his finger on Dean’s tongue to let him lap it up lazily. 

“You,” Castiel murmured, smiling in a post orgasm daze, “are a very good boy.” 

Dean returned the smile, his lips red and swollen. His shifted and blushed when he realized he’d come in his jeans. 

“Damn,” he huffed, head falling back tiredly. “Now I gotta change.” 

“You  _ could _ just get naked.”

Dean chuckled, his voice rough, and shook his head. “Can’t go to the new apartment naked.” 

“...so don’t go to-“

“If you tell me to stay here one more time I’m not wearing a thong for you for a  _ month _ .” 

Castiel promptly snapped his mouth closed.

\----

“ _ Oh. _ Oh, Dean. There’s carpet.”

“Typically is in apartments,” Dean said idly, dropping his armful of boxes just inside his bedroom door. 

“They’re... _ stained.” _

Dean grinned at Castiel’s utterly horrified expression, holding out his arms as he plopped himself down on a crate he’d used to carry in his cassettes. “Home, sweet home.”

Castiel looked at him, quirking a brow. “ _ This  _ is preferable to my home?”

“I want the whole experience, Cas,” Dean whined, standing and crossing over to wrap his arms around Castiel’s solid middle. “Just gimme this one year. It’s a small price to pay, I think.”

“For?”

“For, after this year, having me in your bed every night and every morning. Or rather,” he leaned in close, standing on his toes to whisper in Castiel’s ear, “you having me however and whenever you want me, in that big beautiful house that, in  _ one year _ , you will be able to tell people is  _ ours. _ ”

Castiel hummed softly and pulled Dean close, burying his nose in his hair. “Can’t I currently have you however and whenever I want?”

“Well, yes. Technically. But that’s not mansion-specific.”

“Ah.”

They’d hauled all of Dean’s belongings into the apartment and mostly set up his room by the time Charlie arrived. She came in with one measly little box that didn’t even make it to the doorway of her bedroom before she sat it down with a huff, already acting as though she was too tired to do anything else. 

“Seems smaller now than it did before, doesn’t it?” Charlie asked him with her hands on her hips, breathing hard as she looked around the living room.

Dean raised his brows and crossed his arms over his chest, following her gaze. “Nah, about what I remembered.”

“Well. Not all of us came from living in a mansion. Sure everything looks small to you after that.”

“I didn’t  _ live _ -”

“Where is tall, dark, and handsome, anyway?”

` “He’s just-”

“You know, Dean, if I’d met him before you, I would’ve returned my lesbian card for a slice of- oh! Castiel.”

Castiel had come out of Dean’s bedroom with the television remote in one hand and instructions in the other, his black thick-framed glasses on his nose. He wore his usual slacks and white button-up- with the sleeves rolled up, for what he called ‘productivity’- which was both completely nonsensical and immensely distracting for Dean. He held his hands up innocently, raising his brows and pressing his lips together.

“Am I interrupting?”

“‘Course not,” Charlie said sweetly, cheeks bright red. She turned to Dean and gave him a volatile glare, grinding her next words out lowly: “Coulda told me he was  _ here.” _

Cas gave her a smile and looked over at Dean. “I’m just looking for your HDMI cable, Dean.”

Dean frowned. “It wasn’t with my tv?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well I guess I don’t have one, then.”

Castiel looked about as appalled as he possibly could be, for someone whose face typically does a great job with suppressing emotion. “How can that be?”

“Is this a real question you’re asking me right now, or…?”

Castiel frowned and shook his head, turning to retreat back to Dean’s room. “I have extras at the house, so I’ll bring you a couple. Oh, and the furniture should be here within the hour.” He disappeared into the bedroom.

Dean and Charlie frowned at one another, then took off after him, Charlie stopping at the doorway as Dean took a few steps inside. Castiel was already back at work setting up his television and game systems. 

“What furniture?”

Castiel glanced up at him briefly before pushing his glasses up on his nose and looking down at the remote. “Your new living room furniture, of course.”

“We didn’t order any new furniture,” Charlie said slowly, looking worriedly at Dean.

“Of course you didn’t. I did.”

Dean tried to hide his smile, frankly unworried about what Charlie will think about Castiel doting on him or if she would think he was just doing it to show off. Dean knew that everything Castiel did for him was genuine and in no way meant to “show off”, and he didn’t frankly care what others thought about it.

“You know, we had furniture we were gonna use in there-”

“Oh, Dean, please,” Castiel scoffed, dropping his hands by his sides and looking knowingly over at him. “The sofa from Ash was barely usable and quite frankly, unsanitary. Not to mention, it would’ve been a tight squeeze for any more than two people at once.”

Dean was absolutely  _ not  _ going to laugh over “tight squeeze” and “two people at once” being used in the same sentence by the man who fucks him like it’s a full time job.

“I also got you a coffee table,” Castiel continued, turning his attention back to the tv and squinting at it as if it had personally offended him. “An armchair, a floor lamp, a coffee table, and a houseplant.”

Dean raised his brow at that. “A houseplant?”

“Plants improve air quality, humidity, and help students focus more,” Castiel recited, pressing a button on the remote and frowning when nothing happened. 

Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing and crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn’t decide what was cuter; the fact that Castiel researched the benefits of houseplants or how fucking adorable he looked right now with his annoyed squint and glasses.

“That’s assuming we can keep it alive,” Charlie muttered.

“Dean will take care of it,” Castiel said, turning a hard gaze to Dean, his voice holding an edge to it. “Won’t you, Dean?”

Dean swallowed, could hear the warning underneath the seemingly normal words, and nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course. If I can keep my brother alive a plant’s no problem.”

“Ooookay,” Charlie slowly backed out of the room. “I’m gonna get my room set up. Oh, man, we don’t even have groceries yet-”

“Already taken care of,” Castiel waved her off. She raised a brow at him then disappeared back into the living room.

“Cas, you didn’t…” Dean placed his hands on his hips.

“Listen here, boy,” Castiel finally got the screen he wanted to come up on the tv then quickly started to set up everything. “I agreed to let you do this on your own, but I also know your funds are tight. I wasn’t going to let you go without food, or decent furniture that didn’t smell or have stains that I dare not even guess at how they came to be there. I’m already letting you rent this…” he paused and glanced around disdainfully, “hovel instead of living with me.”

Dean leaned against the wall and smiled, tilting his head. “Hovel? It’s not that bad.”

Castiel gave him a look and put the remote down, dragging Dean into the bathroom- housed between the two bedrooms- and flicking on the light. He gestured dramatically then let his hands fall to his sides with a  _ slap _ . 

Dean frowned, glancing around. “Uh...what?”

Castiel scoffed. “It’s  _ tiny _ .”

“It’s an  _ apartment _ .”

“The tub is also the  _ shower _ , Dean.”

“It’s  _ an apartment _ , Cas.”

“That tub is not nearly big enough for both of us,” Castiel glared at it and Dean was reminded of a big, spoiled child. “It’s hardly big enough for you.”

“Cas…”

“And this carpet is at least ten years old,” Castiel continued, his voice growing into a rant. “That kitchen is too small to cook a proper meal in, it smells faintly of dog despite the lease saying no pets allowed, and the toilet doesn’t look like it’s been replaced since the 70s-”

“Cas,” Dean said in a slightly stronger tone, reaching up to cup his face. “Cas, daddy, I love you, I do, but I think…”

Castiel’s eyebrows crumpled. “What?”

Dean sighed. “I think you’re maybe...a little spoiled.”

“I’m not  _ spoiled _ , Dean,” Castiel huffed. “I just prefer to be comfortable and I prefer  _ you _ to be comfortable.”

“Cas, I’m gonna be fine here,” Dean pulled him in for a kiss, stroking his scruff lovingly. “You forget where I grew up. I’m used to old toilets and small tubs.”

“But I can give you  _ better _ than this.”

“I know that,” Dean said gently. “And I’ll let you give me whatever you want after this first year, okay? I wanna be able to say I did this on my own before you spoil me rotten. And you approved this place weeks ago, if you recall.”

“In hindsight, I’m embarrassed to admit that I somehow didn’t pay close enough attention to realize that the pictures you showed me must have been at least ten years old, judging by the lack of horrific detail in them.” Castiel looked around the small bathroom, clicking his tongue. “False advertising, that’s what that was. The space looked twice as big in the photos you showed me.”

“Maybe they just had like, a  _ really _ good photographer.”

Castiel snapped his attention back to Dean, ready to argue before he saw Dean trying to hide his smirk. 

“This isn’t funny, Dean.”

“It’s kinda funny.”

Castiel huffed, putting his hands on his hips and tonguing the inside of his cheek. “I can’t properly  _ care  _ for you here.”

“Sure you can,” Dean said, pulling him in again. “You’re already doin’ it. Doin’ too much, actually-”

“No, I mean,” Castiel paused, looking Dean in the eye, “ _ care.  _ For you.”

“Ohhh…” Dean whispered, looking down at the small tub and trying to configure a way in his head that they could both fit in there. It looked bleak. “Well. Um. Maybe we’ll just have to save that sort of play for your house.”

Castiel hesitated. “But there may be...times…”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know. We’ll figure it out, Cas. Just a year. We can do this.”

Castiel pressed his lips together and nodded, sliding his hands up to Dean’s face as he pulled him in for a kiss. 

“If you have sex in that bathroom you’re cleaning it,” Charlie’s voice interrupted what was turning into a heated kiss and Dean pulled back, huffing a laugh. 

“There’s no  _ room _ to have sex in here,” Castiel snorted and walked back into Dean’s room to finish setting up his game system.

“Cas, I can do that, you know.”

Castiel sighed, resituating his glasses. “I’m aware.”

Dean watched Castiel fiddle with wires and realized that Castiel just simply wanted to be a part of this. Dean wouldn’t let him pay for an apartment, wouldn’t let him do much anything to help at all (except for the furniture that he had snuck by Dean), so Castiel was doing anything he could to be helpful. That, and he probably didn’t want to leave Dean too soon. 

Dean hummed and started unpacking his boxes, setting up his bedding first then moving onto his computer desk. The furniture was delivered and all three spent some time deciding where to put it all. The living room wasn’t too spacious and by the time it was all set up there wasn’t much free space left, something Castiel made sure to grumble about. 

“This is a seriously comfortable couch,” Charlie said as she fell onto the cushions. “Perfect for naps when we skip class.”

Dean chuckled then promptly ceased when Castiel gave him a stern look. Dean swallowed and rubbed at his chin. 

“Don’t worry, Cas,” he smiled. “I would never skip class.”

Charlie snorted. “You skipped class all the time, Dean.”

“Charlie,” Dean growled, casting her a glare.

“Oh, come on,” she sighed and sat up, raising a brow. “Everyone skips class. Even Mr. Professional here, right Cas?”

“No.”

“No?” Charlie asked incredulously.

Castiel leaned back on the couch, laying an arm on the rest. “I didn’t skip class.”

“Like, ever?”

“Ever.”

“What a nerd!” Charlie laughed, thrusting her thumb at Castiel as she grinned over at Dean. “Is this guy for real?”

Castiel, to Dean’s surprise, chuckled softly, and put an arm around Dean’s neck to pull him closer. “So, Charlie. What are you taking classes for?”

“Programming,” she said proudly, crossing one leg over the other as she held her phone in front of her. 

“Ah, so there’ll be plenty of overlap between yours and Dean’s courses.”

“Yeah. Actually, we have two together this semester.” 

“That’ll be good,” Castiel said, turning to press his lips against Dean’s temple. “Yeah? You’ll have plenty of extra help with homework. Should cut your time in half.”

Dean eyed him, holding back a smirk. “I don’t think that’s how that works.”

Castiel looked down at his phone, furrowing his brow. “If you were to leave this apartment right now, you’d arrive at my house in 22 minutes” He clicked his tongue. “I suppose this apartment’s location isn’t one of its many,  _ many  _ shortcomings.”

“You aren’t gonna let up on that, are you?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“No.”

They spent the next few hours unpacking and getting the apartment in somewhat working order. Groceries were delivered and Dean quietly shook his head at the amount Castiel had ordered for them. He knew better than to argue about it and before long their fridge and cabinets were stuffed full. Castiel insisted on cooking them a “real dinner” so that he knew Dean was at least getting one good meal. 

After dinner was eaten, dishes were cleaned, and Charlie had retreated to her new bedroom, Castiel found himself running out of things to do to prolong his stay. 

“Cas, it’s getting late,” Dean chuckled, approaching the man from behind as he rearranged their cups again. “You’ve been at this all day. You must be tired.”

“I’m fine,” Castiel said, his face twisted in an annoyed frown. “There’s really very little cabinet space in here. I wonder if I-”

“Caaas,” Dean sighed, bumping his forehead against Castiel’s back and wrapping his arms around his waist. “C’mon, I know you’re tired. Movin’ all those boxes and furniture. Cooking and cleaning. We got it from here, I promise.”

Castiel sagged, hands braced on the countertop as he hung his head. “I’m exhausted, quite frankly.”

Dean chuckled and tugged at his waist until he turned around, resting his hands on Castiel’s hips. “Hey,” he murmured, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “How about you just stay here tonight? Help me get comfortable in my new room?”

Castiel ran his tongue along his bottom lip and raised a brow. “How come I feel like you’re humoring me?”

“Well I am, a little.”

“You sure are funny tonight.”

Dean sighed, rucking Castiel’s shirt up enough to lay his hands on warm skin and sharp hip bones. “I would love for you to stay. If you want.”

Castiel watched him for a moment, face carefully neutral. “No. No, I need to let you do this. You’re right, I’m being too suffocating-”

“I don’t think that’s the word I used...”

Castiel huffed and laid his hands on Dean’s cheeks, tilting his head up slightly. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to run everything by me. I need to step back and realize I can’t be in control of everything all the time. Especially you, and especially now.”

“Well, that’s sweet, but don’t flatter yourself, old man,” Dean teased, hands sliding up his waist. “I don’t think I’ve ever made a decision based solely on what you preferred I do.”

“It’s incredibly frustrating.”

“It’s part of why you  _ love  _ me,” Dean insisted, leaning up to kiss him chastely. Castiel pulled him in again, and they swapped slow, lazy kisses before he pulled back and sighed softly.

“I’m going to go home and let you have your first night the way you should. But for the record, I won’t like it.”

“I’ll  _ hate _ it,” Dean said unconvincingly. He didn’t fully relish the idea of being without Castiel, but something about having his own bed again after what had felt so long was a welcomed thought. He wouldn’t voice that to Castiel.

Castiel quirked a smile and leaned down to kiss him one more time. “Okay. I love you, sweet boy.”

“Love you too, daddy.”

\----

Dean had just laid down for bed when his phone buzzed on his dresser.

 

_ Cas: I’m home. _

Dean _ : how was the drive _

Cas: _ It felt much longer than 22 minutes. _

Dean _ : still shorter than your house from dads _

Cas: _ Still too far. _

Dean: _ ur cute like this _

 

Castiel didn’t respond right away and Dean made himself comfortable again, glancing at his phone screen before attempting to settle on a channel on the tv. After about five minutes, Dean sent another text:

 

Dean _ : what r u doin _

Cas:  _ Preparing for bed. _

_ Dean: actually gonna sleep at a decent hour? _

Cas: _ Unlikely. _

 

Dean groaned and let his head fall back, grinning when he typed out his next text.

 

Dean _ : I could help with that _

Cas:  _ You will absolutely not be touching yourself to elicit any sort of positive sexual reaction from me while I’m unable to do anything about it. _

Dean:  _ ur no fun _

 

He was drawn into the last ten minutes of  _ South Park _ and didn’t notice when Castiel texted back, checking it a few minutes later.

 

Cas: _ Home doesn’t feel like home without you. _

 

Dean grinned wider, thumbing absently at his screen.

 

Dean: _ sap _

\----

 

Campus life wasn’t too much different from high school, except of course for a bookstore with $400 textbooks and all the different coffee shops and eateries sprinkled everywhere. And the fact that one can actually smoke on campus now and not be worried about getting sent to the principal’s office.  Not that Dean smoked, but the freedom was nice. There were a variety of college goers, some that even took Dean by surprise. The majority were like him; fresh out of high school and probably thinking this would be a breeze. Some were older, mid-twenties to thirties, and some even older than that. 

When he and Charlie settled into a small table, both armed with coffee, Dean couldn’t help but people watch. Sometimes it was hard to tell a professor from a student, but he could easily tell who was still working through hangovers and who was high off their ass. The latter made him miss Ash terribly. 

“I just don’t get why we have to take core subjects again,” Charlie pouted, kicking Dean’s leg as if it was his fault. “Didn’t we, like, just do that?”

“Yeah, but now it’s college level math, and history, and whatever other crap they think we need,” Dean snorted. “Cas says there’s no getting out of those, so we might as well suck it up and get them over with.”

“Well, I’m sick of them already.”

Dean grinned behind his cup. “It’s only been two weeks.”

“Stop being mature and be cranky with me!” She kicked him again and he winced, scooting his chair away from her.

“I had the life fucked outta me this weekend,” Dean grinned even wider. “I have no reason to be cranky.”

Charlie gave him a withering glare and scoffed. “I don’t know how you have the energy to take it up the ass and still do all this homework. I can barely get enough sleep.”

Dean shrugged, feeling entirely too smug. “I grew up never having time for homework. I have years of practice. Besides, Cas is a stickler for schedules.”

“So what I’m hearing is your sugar daddy-”

Dean tried very hard not to blush.

“-has taught you to master the art of both studying and fucking within the constraints of a schedule that still allows you sleep and social activity?”

Dean opened his mouth and closed it again. Castiel had, in fact, already taken advantage of Dean’s new occupation by tailoring a new scene that  _ did  _ require him to correctly answer questions pulled directly from the textbook of his first engineering class. Dean learned quickly that up until now, Castiel had only very gently edged him, and by the end of the scene the answers to those particular questions were seared into his brain and he vowed to study more regularly, shocked by how much he meant it.

“Sticking to a strict schedule has been really helpful so far,” Dean shrugged again, taking a sip of his coffee. “You should try it.”

“Who even are you?” Charlie sneered, pulling a fruit cup out of her bag. She picked idly at the plastic on top for a moment with her barely-there nails before Dean finally opened it for her. She mumbled a ‘thanks’ and speared what looked like a piece of pear onto a plastic fork.

Dean didn’t answer, instead pulling his phone out of his pocket and staring at the blank screen. Castiel tried not to make a habit of texting him too often throughout the day, since he worried Dean would become distracted and he didn’t want to be the reason behind it. He’d gotten a lovely good morning text that morning but had heard nothing since. 

Castiel was scheduled for another visit to New York for a long weekend, which Dean hated that he couldn’t go to, and he was  _ absolutely not  _ going to stress himself out with the knowledge that Castiel’s  _ ex sub  _ who he used to be  _ in love with  _ would be there. Of course it didn’t matter. Castiel didn’t want her anymore.

Dean set his jaw and glared down at his phone until Charlie snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Hey! What’s up with you?”

Dean blinked and set his phone down, shaking his head. “Nothin’,” he sighed, taking another sip of his coffee. He checked the time and stood, shoulder his bag. “I gotta get to class. See you at home.”

She probably called out to him, but Dean didn’t hear her, too busy staring down at his phone again before he forcibly pocketed it. He was being stupid. They had the whole week before Castiel left and he was going there to  _ work _ , not chat up ex subs who obviously didn’t know what she had. Dean wasn’t happy that Cas had had his heart broken, but he was glad he reaped the benefits. If it hadn’t been for her, he never would have met Castiel. Besides, he knew for a fact that he fulfilled Castiel more than she ever did.

Well, he didn’t  _ know _ that, but he certainly liked to think it.

When classes for the day were finally over, Dean drove the short ride home and raided the kitchen. Armed with Mountain Dew and Doritos (whatever Castiel didn’t know couldn’t hurt him), Dean locked himself in his room and booted up his laptop to get started on homework. It was strange not to procrastinate on such things, but being with Castiel made it impossible to fall behind on schoolwork. Mostly because Castiel had a habit of calling-

His phone started ringing and he grinned as he answered it.

“Are you doing your homework?” Castiel asked as a greeting and Dean snorted in amusement.

“Yes, daddy,” he chuckled, taking a bite of a Dorito then immediately regretting it.

“Is that a chip?” Castiel asked sharply.

“Cas, baby, c’mon,” Dean swallowed, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s Doritos, man. That’s brain food for college boys. I can’t survive this without some junk. Not all of us love celery sticks as much as you do.”

“Dip them in peanut butter.”

Dean smiled. “Or just eat the peanut butter.”

“I have utterly failed with you.”

“Mmm. Maybe a bit.” Dean crunched down unapologetically on another Dorito and stuck his pen behind his ear as he one-handedly opened up a notebook. “How was your day?”

“Well. It’s not over yet.”

Dean looked at the time. Almost 6 p.m.

“Yikes. You’re still at Hoppmann?”

“No. Well, yes, technically. Sort of.” 

Dean waited patiently for Castiel to elaborate, taking another long sip of his Mountain Dew. 

“You know you’re practically consuming liquid sugar-”

“ _ Cas.” _

Castiel huffed on the other end of the line, and Dean could hear a tapping sound in the background. “I’m still technically  _ here,  _ but it’s only because I got hung up on a call from the new top dog up at CIS, some guy by the name of Roman. So I spent…” he sighed heavily, “close to an hour on the phone with him, talking about the merging of new versus old ideas and the like. Bit of a tool.”

“Yeesh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Castiel groaned and Dean could imagine him leaning forward in his chair, tie maybe loosened around his neck with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His dick absolutely does  _ not  _ twitch at the idea. 

“Did you get home okay?” came Castiel’s voice, snapping Dean back to reality.

He rolled his eyes, appreciative that Castiel couldn’t see him. “ _ Yes,  _ Cas. You don’t have to ask me that every time I come home. This place is actually in a pretty good area. It’s part of the reason you chose it, wasn’t it?”

“Pardon me for worrying.”

“You worry too much.”

“I have very good reason.”

Dean refused to argue when Castiel insisted on caring so wholeheartedly about him. He just sat and listened to the sound of the man’s breathing as he pulled up his school email and found the proper page in his textbook, waiting for him to speak again.

“Are you still angry with me about New York?”

Dean sighed and let his head fall back dramatically. “I wasn’t  _ mad,  _ Cas-”

“Okay, well-”

“Just sucks, a whole weekend without you, you know.” Dean ran a finger absently along the corner of his laptop. “Who will tell me when to study, or deny me simple pleasures in life like Doritos and soda and orgasms?”

“You sure do spend a lot of time with someone you seem to find so unpleasant.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “I’m just gonna miss you. Like, a lot.”

He heard Castiel sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.”

Dean opened up a discussion board for his class- which he found utterly stupid and pointless- and started reading through the topic. “You gonna head home now?”

“Yes, I think so,” Castiel said, and Dean heard him standing, gathering his things. “See, this is one of those days where I would very much love to come home to you.”

Dean quirked a brow and smiled. “Oh yeah? I bet I could ease some of that stress.”

“Mmm, yes, you could,” Castiel said lowly. “Having a pretty little hole to fuck after a long day is very relaxing.”

Dean shuddered, his dick twitching again, and tried to focus on his work. “Shouldn’t talk like that when you’re still at work. Someone might hear you.”

“I’ll just fire them.”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You would not. You’re too damn nice.”

“And whose fault is that?” Castiel huffed, the sound of a door clicking a second later. “I used to be a lot more cold and heartless.”

“The hell you were,” Dean shook his head. “Dad was always goin’ on about how generous you were when you took over. Stop tryin’ to act like a tough guy and admit you’re just a big ol’ softy.”

“There’s nothing  _ soft _ about me, boy.”

Dean licked his lips and a pressed a palm briefly to his crotch. “Oh, I know, daddy.”

“Are you touching yourself?” Dean heard the ding of an elevator.

“No,” Dean said, snatching his hand away.

“Liar.”

Dean chuckled and pushed his laptop away, giving up on getting anything done while he was the phone with the hottest man in existence. 

“I fucked you all weekend,” Castiel huffed. “Surely you’ve been sated for at least a day or two.”

“Are you forgetting what it was like for you at 18?” Dean laughed. “It doesn’t take much. Especially with you growling in my ear like that. Your voice is like pure sex, Cas. I literally can’t help it.”

Castiel laughed quietly. “You do know how to stroke a man’s ego.”

“I can stroke anything you want.”

“Go on, then.”

Dean felt a rush of excitement surge through him and he laid out on his back as he heard the elevator doors open and close, and he could picture Castiel walking through the small lobby at Hoppmann, empty of redheaded one night stands, since it was so late. Not that Miss MacLeod’s constant ogling of Castiel still bothered him. Not at all.

He dipped his hand below his waistband, using his forearm to work the pants down as much as possible. He grunted as he balanced the cell phone between his ear and shoulder to use his other hand to push them down to his thighs, completely freeing his cock.

“Start slow. Let me know when you’ve gotten yourself wet.”

“Already am.”

A pause. The sound of a car door. “Really?”

“Doesn’t take much with you, apparently.”

“Your age and heightened libido continue to work in my favor.” The car started and Castiel turned the radio down to a low hum.

Dean stroked his cock slowly, watching as the head poked out of his hand and disappeared into it again. He shuddered.

“I bet you look so fucking beautiful right now.”

“Cas, if you don’t start sayin’ some freaky shit-”

Castiel chuckled darkly. The simple sound had Dean’s dick tingling.

“I’m just imagining what you’ll feel like when I get back from my trip,” Castiel started, the sound of his blinker filling the empty space. “Four whole days. It’s been awhile since it’s been that long, hasn’t it? Since before you graduated.”

“ _ Hnng…” _

“That tight pussy is gonna feel so fuckin’ good on me, baby. And you’re gonna be so  _ primed.  _ I bet you’ll come before I even stretch your little hole open, won’t you? I bet you’ll come, and come, and  _ come…” _ He drew the last word out, humming at the end of it. “When I get back, I’m making it my personal goal to make sure you can’t walk out of my house for at least a day.”

“ _ Fuck,  _ daddy…”

“Faster now, sweet boy.”

Dean obeyed, relaxing his wrist and allowing himself to stroke faster, then slowing again when he felt his orgasm approaching too quickly. He alternated between hard, fast strokes, and slow, gentle ones, keeping himself just on the edge.

“Fuck. The sounds you’re making, I may have to pull this car over.”

“Or you c-could-” Dean shuddered, inhaling sharply as he rubbed at his sensitive cockhead, “-drive...it...here.”

“Charlie will be home, and I wouldn’t be able to take you quietly.”

“S-so don’t-”

“You have studying to do.”

“S-stop...making...excu- mmm...excuses.”

A dry chuckle. “Are you close, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good. A little more deliberate, now.” 

Dean did as he was told, hearing Castiel hum appreciatively at the other end of the line when Dean’s breathing became more erratic and he was moaning softly.

“Can’t wait to lick that pussy open, make it nice and wet and ready to take my cock. Then I’ll spread your legs and push in real slow, watch you take every inch of me. Watch my cock fill you up when I come, watch you take it all like the good sweet boy you are.”

“Oh,  _ fuck-”  _ Dean pumped harder, his hand passing over his cock with an obscene squelch from slick precum. 

“Dean? Hey, Dean!”

Oh, fuck. The sound of Charlie’s voice calling from much closer to Dean’s bedroom than he was comfortable with had him pausing with his cock still in his hand. But it was too late, he was past the point of no return: his cock was already spasming, his vision swimming, nerve endings firing. He started moving his hand again quickly, murmuring a soft litany of  _ “fuckfuckfuck” _ into the phone as he finally erupted into his hand and across his stomach...just as Charlie opened the door.

“I thought we could-”

Dean was too soon post-orgasm to be super embarrassed about Charlie immediately cursing loudly and slamming the door shut again, not when Castiel was busy asking him what the hell happened and the cum hadn’t even started cooling on his skin yet. He shuddered violently with aftershocks, panting into the phone.

“Dean.” Castiel said sternly, probably for the fifth time.

“Charlie just saw me come,” Dean said breathlessly, holding out his sticky hand, head lolling to the side as he stared at his door.

Castiel chuckled on the other end of the line, eventually transitioning into full-out laughter.

“This is your fault.”

More laughter, gasping breath.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I have to  _ live  _ with her.”

“Well, now, you don’t  _ have  _ to-”

“Goodbye, Cas.” Dean hung up the phone and tossed it to the bed, and yeah, he’d pay for that later, but he had more pressing matters now. He groaned as he struggled to his feet with one sticky hand, drying cum on his stomach, and his pants pulled halfway down his thighs. He stood in the middle of his room for a minute, looking around to try to figure out what he could do. He needed to get cleaned up, but the only bathroom was shared, directly between the two bedrooms. 

He grumbled to himself as he pulled an old shirt out of his hamper, wiping his hand and stomach quickly, then pulling his pants back up. He found a bottle of hand sanitizer that Castiel had insisted on when they did his back-to-school shopping and rubbed some between his hands, adjusted his shirt, fluffed his hair in the mirror, and opened his bedroom door.

Charlie was on the couch, and she didn’t look up at him when he approached, instead choosing to focus on the episode of  _ South Park _ that was on Comedy Central, which seemed to be one of the only shows that ever came on one of the few channels they got. Dean shifted on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, so that was...awkward.”

“I. Am. A. Lesbian.” Charlie said in a hard tone, nodding her head with each word. She looked up at Dean with a very serious expression, gesturing with a hand. “Full stop.”

Dean snorted. “You weren’t fully convinced before?”

“Oh, I was. This just...really solidifies my answer for a potential threesome with Mr. Handsome.”

“Ah.” 

Charlie tilted her head to the side as she stared at the tv. “Although, had I caught you  _ with him, _ I might’ve had a bit of a different reaction…”

Dean chuckled and plopped down beside her on the couch, laying an arm over the back.

Charlie wrinkled her nose at him. “Dude. Go shower or something.”

“It’s a natural bodily function, Charlie!” Dean argued childishly, although a big part of him really did want to go wash the sticky residue off of himself. 

“Ugh!” Charlie flopped to the other side of the couch, pushing against him with her socked feet until she got tired, eventually just laying them in his lap. She pulled out her cell phone and held it in front of her face, clicking a few things before grinning like an idiot.

Dean quirked a brow. “Who are you talking to?”

“Somebody I met in my public speaking class.”

“Does somebody h-”

“Dean, if you’re about to hit me with one of those stupid parenting questions, I will push you off this couch.”

Dean snapped his mouth closed, suppressing a smile.

“Her name’s Dorothy,” Charlie said after a moment of typing on her phone. She laid it on her chest and looked down at Dean. “She’s...really cool. She’s been to 23 different countries.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “There are  _ 23  _ countries??”

Charlie stared at him a moment before rolling her eyes. “There are 195 countries, Dean.”

“Right. ‘Course.”

Charlie scoffed and returned to her phone. “Anyway. I really like her. I dunno if she’s...y’know...gay, though.”

Dean shrugged. “Won’t know til ya ask.”

“I’m gonna ask her out tomorrow.”

“Mm hm.”

“I am!” Charlie kicked him again then tucked her feet underneath her. 

“You’re gonna chicken out is what you’re gonna do,” Dean stuck his tongue out. “Same thing happened with that Alice chick back at school. You never got more than a ‘hey’ out before you turned tail and ran.”

“I was young,” Charlie sniffed. “I’m so grown up now. I can ask a girl out without tripping over myself.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“So do you always jerk off after class, or…?”

Dean blushed and threw a pillow at her. 

\----

“What are you eating?” 

Dean swallowed, eyes fixed on his computer as he chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. 

“Gummy bears,” he grunted, popping another one in his mouth. 

“An...after lunch snack?”

“The gummy bears  _ are _ my lunch,” Dean snorted into the phone. There was a long, dreadfully tense pause from the other line. Dean frowned, his fingers pausing over the keyboard. 

“Cas…?” 

“You’re having  _ gummy bears. For lunch.”  _

Dean flinched at the tone and swallowed nervously. “Uh, Yeah? It’s just...I mean, we’re out of food and I haven’t had time-“

The line went dead and Dean blinked at his phone, then shook his head as he sat it down. Sometimes Cas was really dramatic. 

The door opened and closed a little over an hour later. He didn’t think much of it, being as it was close to Charlie’s typical time anyway. There was shuffling across the carpet and he heard bags being put down on the counter, and he waited for her to pop her head in like she normally did- after making sure to ask first if he was decent.

He wasn’t prepared for Castiel to come striding into his room, looking...well. Not exactly angry, but perhaps underneath, with that carefully placed neutrality spread thinly over his features. 

“Cas. What-”

Castiel reached across the bed and grabbed Dean’s ankle, swiftly pulling him toward him. He picked him up easily by his waist- which, okay, Dean thinks is  _ really  _ fuckin’ hot- and literally threw him over his shoulder, holding tightly to his legs as he carried him out of the room.

“What. The. Hell,” Dean grumped as he was bounced around, the only saving grace being Castiel’s perfect ass basically right in front of his face, begging him to touch it. Castiel pulled him back up and sat him on the counter before he had the chance to.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and pretended to look pissy even though he was internally giddy that Castiel had come over, given it had been a few days since they’d seen each other. He was leaving for New York in two days and Dean had been studying for a big test at the end of the week. Not to mention, CIS’s new CEO, Richard Roman- ‘Dick’, Dean cheekily called him when Castiel continued to complain- was calling Castiel several times a day to hash out details of his visit and talk about plans for the company. Castiel was becoming more and more frustrated, and since Dean had always been his best source of frustration release, he’d taken instead to even more insane late-night workouts than the ones Dean was used to.

Castiel pulled one of the bags over to him and took out two plastic containers, sitting them carefully on the counter.

“What’s your problem?” Dean asked, immediately regretting it when Castiel turned his icy stare to him.

He said nothing, but grabbed a fork out of the drawer and opened one of the containers, revealing a salad of some sort. Oh.  _ Oh. _

“This is about the gummy bears.”

Castiel still didn’t speak, but adds a small amount of his favorite homemade dressing- some kinda weird mixture of vinegar and lemon and dijon mustard- that Dean hated to admit he liked. He then speared a piece of grilled chicken and some lettuce before kneeing Dean’s legs apart and settling between them, raising the food to his lips.

Dean wanted to be a brat and refuse the food, but the chicken actually smelled so good his mouth was watering. Add to that the pecans in the salad, and the mandarin oranges. He closed his mouth around the fork and moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“Was this just your way of getting me here?” Castiel finally asked, voice slightly softer.

“No, actually, but I’ll have to remember it for next time,” Dean teased.

Castiel sighed, unsmiling, and fed Dean another few bites before the boy spoke again. 

“You mad at me?” Dean asked, chewing slowly. 

“A little,” Castiel admitted quietly, holding up another forkful. 

“I was gonna go the store tomorrow,” Dean murmured, taking another bite. “I promise.” 

“How long have you been out of food?” 

Dean shrugged and looked down at his lap. “I dunno. Day or two?” 

“So you’ve been eating junk this whole time?” Castiel frowned, clearly displeased. 

“Cas-“ Dean sighed. 

“Dean, I agreed to let you do this on your own because you promised me you’d take care of yourself,” Castiel said in that horribly disappointed tone. “Barely three weeks in and you’ve already neglected your health.”

“Cas, this is  _ college _ ,” Dean huffed, defensive. “College kids kinda live off junk. It’s all we have time for and, frankly, all we can afford.” 

“Stop using college as an excuse,” Castiel snapped, then inhaled deeply and rolled his shoulders. “I finally had you on a good diet. You’re not going to ruin that for gummy bears and Doritos. And if you don’t have money I will have groceries delivered. You  _ will not _ go without food again, do you understand?” 

Dean nodded, thoroughly reprimanded, speaking quietly. “Yes.” 

“Good. Now eat.” 

Dean obediently ate the rest of his lunch, the air thick with a strange kind of tension. Dean wasn’t sure if this was really about the food or if it was about the fact that Castiel no longer had full control over Dean’s decision-making. When Dean lived with him, he ate what Castiel made. Lived in comfort because Castiel provided it for him. Now Dean was on his own for most of the week, and Castiel was unable to make sure he was getting the proper care he wanted for Dean. 

“I know this has been… hard for you,” Dean said softly before Castiel could raise another bite to his lips. “It's been hard for me too.”

Castiel sighed. “You're much better adjusted, it seems.”

Dean looked up at him. “But you were alone. Y'know. Before.”

“Yes,” Castiel said, giving Dean another large bite and watching him chew slowly. “But now that I'm not… _ alone _ , I don't like  _ being _ alone.”

Dean swallowed and looked at Castiel, who was looking down between them. He scooted forward and wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck, then his legs around his middle, pulling him close. “You're not alone. I'm right  _ here. _ ”

Castiel sat the fork to the side and returned the hug, his nose in Dean's hair. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I get it.”

“You know I just…” Castiel pulled back, holding his face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs, “I worry. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't know how to  _ not _ take care of you anymore.”

“Well you don't have to _ not _ -”

“No, I know. It's that I don't know how I  _ can _ anymore, without seeming like a…. fucking obsessive asshole.” Castiel let out a breath, looking lost. “And I'm… that's not me. I'm not that guy.”

“Cas, I…” Dean took his hands, holding them in his lap, “I know that. It’s just gonna be a bit of an adjustment, you know? For both of us. I miss you too. So much. And I know you’re just trying to find a happy medium, and you will. And in the meantime, I understand.”

Castiel huffed a laugh. “I feel crazy.”

“Maybe just crazy in love.”

Castiel chuckled and leaned forehead, bumping their foreheads together. “That  _ does _ sound better than just plain crazy.”

Dean smiled and cupped both sides of his face, stroking his cheeks. “Would it make you feel better if I let you buy the groceries every once and awhile?”

Castiel looked down and bit his lip. “Dean, you don’t have to placate me. I’m aware I’m being a bit overbearing-”

“Cas, say yes before I take it back.”

“Yes.”

Dean squeezed Castiel’s waist with his legs and nodded. “That’s what I thought. What else did you bring me for lunch?”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!!!!
> 
> Just kidding, there's still an epilogue.  
> And a time stamp.
> 
> You guys truly are spoiled, you know that?

“You gonna call me when you land?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“You gonna call me when you get to the hotel?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“You gonna call me when you-”

“Dean, shall I just call you every hour?”

Dean blinked, then nodded, despite the fact that Castiel couldn’t see it. “Actually, yeah, that’d make this a lot easier.”

He heard Castiel sigh. “I’ll be back in a few days, sweet boy.”

Dean echoed Castiel’s sigh and buried his face into his pillow. It was stupidly early and the only reason he was awake was to speak to Castiel before he got on his plane. 

“I know, but we always spend the weekends together…” Dean whined. “I’m gonna be so empty without you, daddy.”

“Dean…” Castiel said warningly.

“No one here to fuck me hard into the bed,” Dean murmured lowly. “No one here to tie me up, spank my ass-”

“Dean, I am in line for security,” Castiel said fiercely. “I absolutely cannot become aroused or this whole trip will become very complicated.”

Dean chuckled smugly. “Fine, but be prepared to have some fun when you call me from the hotel.”

“Of course,” Castiel said. “Make sure to lock your door.”

“Screw you, Cas.”

“If only.” Castiel sighed, and Dean could hear the robotic female voice come over the loudspeaker to announce a boarding flight. “I’m almost to the front of the line. I should go.” He lowered his voice, the tone sending chills down Dean’s spine. “Talk to you soon, sweet boy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas.”

He didn’t move right away, listening to Castiel hang up the phone and for the line to beep before he actually pushed the ‘end’ button on his phone. It was only shortly after 4 a.m., and his first class wasn’t until 9. He very seriously considered jacking off and sending Castiel the picture of the aftermath, but he wouldn’t put it past Castiel to get directly on the first flight back home just to punish him for that.

Actually, in that case…

No. No. Dean shook his head and rolled to his back, plopping his head back against the pillow with a huff.  Monday. Monday night he’d be home. Dean only needed to get through the day, the weekend, and a Monday of classes to see him again.

He desperately wished he could’ve gone with him again now. Seen the look on Yulia’s face when she found out they were  _ together _ together. That Dean had snatched up this precious thing that she’d tossed aside. He hoped she would realize what a big mistake she made and how it’s too late to fix it. He found himself wishing he was on the plane with Castiel, even knowing he’d be sick at least once and probably have ten panic attacks in the short three hour flight.

He sat up, scrubbing his hands through his hair and wiping his eyes. It was going to take him awhile to get back to sleep anyway...may as well grab some water while he’s awake and make a quick trip to the bathroom. It was incredibly inconvenient to have to fully leave his room every time he had to pee, which he would  _ never  _ admit to Castiel, who was ready to use the bathroom thing as the entire reason why Dean shouldn’t stay at the apartment. 

Dean shuffled across the living room into the kitchen, feet thudding against the ugly linoleum floor. He pulled a water bottle out of the fridge and took a few swigs, jumping and almost choking when he heard the front door open and close. He made a quick grab for the closest knife- actually a pretty intimidating one, since Castiel had purchased them a nice set of knives with a fancy block and sharpener and everything- and rounded the corner into the living room.

Charlie froze and dropped her things, holding her hands up in the air.

“Dean, what the f-”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dean beat her to it, slapping the stupid knife down on the counter and holding his hand over his chest. “Jesus. I thought you were already here in bed? What the hell-”

“I was!” she said defensively, lowering her hands and grabbing her bags off the floor. “It was a little after midnight when Dorothy called, wanting me to go to a disco with her.”

“A...disco.”

“Yes.”

“You went to a disco.”

“ _ Yes.”  _ Charlie struggled getting her things to her bedroom door, dropping a shoe and a couple articles of clothing on the way. Dean grabbed them up, tossing them inside her door as Charlie threw all her stuff on her bed.

“It’s 4 a.m.”

“I’m aware of the time,” she said, sifting through her stuff and putting it all in its place.

“I guess I’m just wondering where the hell has a disco at 4 a.m. Also, I didn’t know they were a thing. I thought disco was dead.”

“It’s very much alive, for starters,” Charlie said matter-of-factly, barely looking at him. “And I don’t know, it was at one of the little hipster clubs. They do weird shit like that all the time, apparently? And the disco actually started at midnight, so-”

Dean raised a brow and grinned slyly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against her doorway. “So when did the disco end?”

“Um.” Charlie placed her hands on her hips, looking down at the clothes on her bed. “Around 3, I guess.”

“So where’ve you been for the last hour and a half?”

Charlie glared over at him. “Do I ask you personal questions about your relationship?”

“You don’t have to ask,” Dean pointed out, grin widening. “You can hear it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“So tell me about the disco.” Dean stepped inside and plopped down on the edge of her bed, leaning back on his hands.

“Well it was...I dunno. Kind of like a rave, I guess. Just with disco instead of techno and the like. There was dancing, drinking, probably some drugs somewhere.” She threw a tshirt into her hamper and looked back at him, a sort of dopey grin coming over her face. “We had a good time. It’s not something that’s typically my scene, but, uh...I really enjoyed it.”

“Hey, you don’t wear lipstick, do you?”

Charlie frowned. “No. Why?”

“You just got a little-” Dean gestured to his own neck, then the smear on Charlie’s, trying to hide a smile.

“Oh, fuck off, Winchester.”

Dean held his hands up and chuckled.

“Hey, what are you doing up, anyway?” Charlie asked, walking into the bathroom to scrub at her neck.

Dean followed after her and leaned against the doorframe. “Cas’s flight is this morning.”

“Ah, right, the weekend away,” Charlie hummed, grabbing a washcloth and running it under warm water. “Poor Deanie Weenie doesn’t have his sugar daddy to play with.”

“Shuddup,” Dean mumbled, pouting slightly. “He’s a lot more than just my sugar daddy, you know. I’m in love with the guy.”

“But he  _ is _ a sugar daddy, is what I’m hearing.”

Dean hid a grin. 

“Hey, but, seriously,” Charlie turned to him, the lipstick only half gone and her face uncharacteristically solemn. “Can I ask you something? And you promise not to get pissed?”

Dean immediately tensed, but forced his muscles to relax. He shrugged, eyeing her carefully. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“I know you’re head over heels for the guy,” Charlie fiddled with the washcloth, looking down and shrugging her shoulders. “And he’s clearly in it deep with you, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s just...the age, Dean.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dean growled, pushing off the doorframe and heading towards his room. “Not you too.”

“No, no, wait!” Charlie ran after him, tugging at his arm. “It’s not about the age exactly, okay? It’s just, have you thought about what it means? For the future?”

Dean blinked and turned, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” she sighed, letting her hand drop. “Let’s get real here, just for a sec. I know you’ve thought about marrying him, right?”

Dean swallowed and nodded.

“And I’m all for that,” Charlie quickly added. “But, the age gap is pretty significant, Dean. He’s already middle-aged. Granted, he looks damn good, but it’s still a fact. Ten years from now, you’ll only be...what? 28, 29? He’s gonna be pushing his 60s.”

“He’s only 44.”

“Still.”

Dean set his jaw. “What’s your point?”

“The point is...he’s gonna want to-  _ need  _ to...you know, slow down soon,” Charlie shrugged. “He won’t have as much energy.”

“I don’t love him because of the sex.”

“I know that,” Charlie said gently. “That’s not even what I’m talking about. I’m just saying, you might find yourself wishing he were younger. If only for the purpose that you’d have more time with him. I don’t want to get morbid here, and I’m not saying this to hurt you. The opposite, actually. I’m a little worried, down the road, you’re...Dean, you might... _ lose _ him-”

“Stop, okay?” Dean said roughly, feeling tears prickling his eyes. “Jesus, Charlie. You wanna talk about him dying? Really?”

“Dean,” Charlie said firmly. “It’s something you  _ have _ to think about at some point. I’m not saying it’s now, or even a year from now. But it’s reality and you have to accept that. You know I’m totally supportive of this relationship and I know the guy cares about you. Trust me, he’s definitely thought about this. Probably more so than you think. And yeah, he won’t be able to always keep up with you. Whether it’s sexually or just energy-wise. He’s an older man...there are things that come with that.”

Dean crossed his arms and looked around the room, feeling Charlie’s eyes on him the whole time. He sighed and sunk down onto the sofa, rubbing a hand roughly through his hair. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dean leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, face in his hands. 

“And then there’s...you know. Like,  _ kids,  _ or whatever-”

“Fuck’s sake, Charlie-”

“I’m just saying! You’re still young enough to have plenty of time to decide whether or not you want them, but I can’t imagine he’d want them much longer, if at all. You know? It’s kinda a small window to work with, and I know you’d want to take your time…” she trailed off, sitting down a foot or so away. “I know you’re happy with him, Dean. I can see that. I just...you know, you’re my best friend, and I don’t want to see you regretting a decision when it’s too late to-”

Dean was already shaking his head. “No. No, I’m not gonna...regret this. Ever.”

Charlie hesitated for a while. “Have you...ever talked to him? About this stuff?”

“Um. No, not really.”

Charlie sighed and stood, laying a hand on his shoulder briefly. “Well, you definitely should. Before you make any decisions. You don’t want either of you to waste time you can’t get back.”

Dean set his jaw and practically bit his tongue as Charlie retreated to her bedroom. She was right, of course, not that Dean would ever audibly admit to that. He knew she just wanted what was best for him, as his best friend. And if he was being honest with himself, he really hadn’t given any of the issues she’d highlighted much thought, choosing instead to turn a blind eye to it and enjoy the here and now with Castiel.

But they’d never really spoken with sincerity about marriage, or children, or anything that the future might hold for them. Dean had begun to look at those things as a given, but maybe Castiel wasn’t planning for any of that. Now he felt stupid for the assumptions.

What if Castiel didn’t want to get married? Dean didn’t think he was lying about being in love with him, but what if he never planned to make it official? What if he didn’t want kids one day? Did Dean even want kids one day?

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. Yeah. Yeah, he did. And especially after seeing how good Castiel was with kids, how it was something it seemed obvious he wanted for himself, Dean wanted that with him. Not yet, but...one day. 

He’d never thought of his relationship with Castiel, of his plans for their future, as time-sensitive. But all Charlie had to do was point out the obvious, wipe away the fog of their delirious happiness, to have Dean questioning everything about them. 26 years wasn’t _ that _ big of a gap, in the grand scheme of things...was it?

\----

Charlie kept clear of him for a while after that. Not because he was angry with her, but because she seemed to know he needed the space to think. Dean got through the day’s class (only one on Fridays) and went to work. Working with his hands helped to distract him, but his thoughts were just below the surface. After work, Dean collapsed onto his bed and only then realized he hadn’t gotten a call from Cas all day. Not even a text. Before he could rethink it, Dean grabbed his phone and found Castiel’s name. 

“Hello, sweet boy,” Castiel answered. Despite the words, the man sounded haggard, exhausted.

“Hey…” Dean cleared his throat and rolled onto his back, rubbing at his eyes. Just hearing the guy’s voice was making him emotional. Fuck, he should have texted. “You sound tired.”

“I haven’t been to my hotel yet,” Castiel sighed. “I got off the plane and  _ Dick _ was waiting for me. Apparently he was eager to get started.”

“What the fuck, Cas, you don’t even work for this company anymore,” Dean growled, more annoyed than he probably should be, but the day had been hell.

“I care about what happens to it,” Castiel murmured. “I basically built it from the ground up.”

“I know, but…” Dean rubbed at his chest. “There’s a limit, Cas. He can’t use you like this. Shouldn’t have to work this much. You’re gonna wear yourself out.”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Castiel said firmly. “I’m on my way to the hotel now. How was your day?”

Dean switched to his side, phone pressed between his ear and the pillow. “‘S fine…”

“What’s wrong?” Castiel demanded, sharp as always to Dean’s moods.

“Nothin’.”

“You’re lying.”

Dean huffed and closed his eyes. “It’s nothing. Really. I just miss you. Kind of a crap day. Wished I could come home to you.”

“You’re welcome to my home, Dean. You have a key. If that would be better for you.”

“No,” Dean mumbled. “It’s not the same without you there.”

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Castiel asked again, his voice softer. “Do I need to come home?”

“No, I just…” Dean sighed and buried himself further under the covers. “Everything’s fine. I dunno why I’m being weird. I just wanted to call and check in. You didn’t call and...like I said. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby.” 

Dean smiled despite the fact that Castiel couldn’t see it. “So have you seen Yulia?”

Castiel snorted. “I did see her in passing. She invited us to her wedding in the Spring.”

Dean wrinkled his nose and made a disapproving noise. “Uhh…”

“Not to worry. I respectfully declined.”

“Thank god.”

They were both quiet for what seemed like a long time, with Dean wanting to ask questions he knew he shouldn’t be asking over the phone and Castiel probably realizing there was more to the phone call than just Dean missing him. 

“So…” Dean said slowly, his voice cracking slightly before he cleared his throat, “are you staying at our hotel?”

“Of course not,” Castiel said quickly. “For one, Roman made sure to book all my travel and rooming accommodations himself. I’m sure it’s a nice place, but probably nothing like I would have picked. And second, that hotel is...I would say, a bit sacred, wouldn’t you?”

Dean huffed a laugh, grinning like an idiot. “If that’s what you’d call it, sure.”

“I have no desire to stay in the same hotel we stayed in without you. All I would be able to think about is fucking you up against those windows and unfortunately, it’s incredibly difficult to concentrate and brainstorm good ideas when your only active thought is being inside your exceptionally attractive boyfriend.”

“I can see how that might cause an issue.”

“Indeed.”

Dean licked his lips, to wipe the stupid grin off his face if nothing else. “Hey, Cas, I have a question.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Dean fidgeted with his comforter, frowning. “I...want to go on a date.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Is that your question?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay, so it was more of a request.”

He heard Castiel chuckle softly, like he was holding the phone away.

Dean sat up. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, it sounds like you are. I don’t know what’s funny about it.”

“What’s funny about it is I’ve taken you with me to New York, I’ve spent an entire vacation with you, you lived with me less than a month ago, I paid for you to go to school-”

“You _ insisted _ !”

“-and I’ve fucked you in so many different places, in so many different positions, so many times I’ve lost count, and you’re asking me to take you on a date. Like  _ that’s  _ the thing I would object to.”

Dean had to hold back a small grin. “So that’s a yes?”

“Dean Winchester, I would love nothing more than to take you on a proper date.”

Dean grinned widely, no longer able to hold it back. His heart skipped and his gut warmed, twisting with excitement and even a little nervousness. In all the months they’d been together, they’ve never gone on a real date. Even something simple, like dinner and a movie. For some reason, the thought had Dean jittery. 

“What would you like to do on our date?” Castiel asked, a clear smile in his voice.

“No, no,” Dean laughed. “No cheating. You have to think of something fun all on your own.”

“Very well,” Castiel chuckled. “Any stipulations?”

Dean thought for a moment. “We have to go somewhere that’s not your bedroom.”

“I already don’t like this.”

“Shut up,” Dean smiled. “Somewhere we haven’t been before. Not just something I would like either, something we  _ both _ would like.”

“You’re a demanding date.”

“Yeah,” Dean smirked. “Good thing I put out, huh?”

Castiel laughed and Dean heard the sound of a door closing. “Alright, sweet boy. I’ll take you somewhere special. Where we will both have fun.”

“You in the hotel?”

“Yes,” Castiel said slowly and Dean could hear clothes rustling.

“Are you too tired to talk dirty to me?”

Castiel huffed a laugh. “I was, but talking to you has given me a little pep.”

“So-”

“But I think I’m gonna have you stew a little longer,” Castiel said lowly. “I want you wet and ready for me when I get home.”

“What?! C’mon-”

“Goodnight, sweet boy.”

The line went dead and Dean stared down at his phone incredulously. 

“Son of a bitch.”

\----

Dean:  _ im wearing those panties you love so much _

Castiel:  _ Nice try. _

Dean: _ what? I rly am _

Castiel:  _ That’s interesting, because I have them with me. _

Dean:  _ wtf _

Castiel:  _ Just a little something to remember you by, dear. _

\----

Dean:  _ just imagine ducking me on ur desk rn _

Dean:  _ ducking* _

Dean: _ FUCKING** _

Castiel:  _ Is that preferable to goosing? _

Dean:  _ i hate u _

Dean:  _ anyway _

Dean:  _ just imagine _

Castiel: _ There are a lot of people in here currently.  _

Castiel:  _ I doubt they’d appreciate me fucking my lover in front of them. _

Dean:  _ throw me a damn bone here cas _

Castiel: _ Back to animals again? _

\----

Dean _ : i have an idea _

Castiel:  _ I’m not talking dirty to you until I get home. _

Dean:  _ i wish u didn’t hate me _

\----

Dean spent a few extra hours at the shop on Saturday to make up for a few he’d missed during the week while studying, busying himself with the cars and occasionally texting Castiel increasingly suggestive things, none of which he would give in to. He was considering what kind of racy photo he’d send the man when he got home when Bobby came up to sit near him in one of the chairs of the shop, laying his hands on his thighs.

“Bout ready to close it up, ain’t we, Bobby?” Dean grunted as he stood up straight and unhooked the hood, then slowly lowered it, dropping it the last couple of inches. Bobby hadn’t said anything yet, but he was looking at him. Like he wanted to say something but forgot what words were.

Dean raised his brows. “Bobby? Somethin’ on your mind?”

“I, uh…” Bobby adjusted his cap, finally looking up at Dean. “Talked to your daddy the other day.”

It took Dean’s brain a minute to realize that Bobby would surely be talking about  _ John _ , and not Castiel.

“Been awhile since I’d really spoken to ‘im. He told me, ah...what’s been goin’ on. With you an’ him, and...the, uh...y’know. The other fella.”

“Castiel.”

“Right, yeah.”

Dean sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face, ‘cause  _ holy fuck  _ he didn’t want to be having this conversation with Bobby of all people, the man who’d helped raise him and Sammy when they were younger and John couldn’t be there.

“Look, if you’re gonna chew me out for it-”

“What?”

Dean looked over at him, frowning. “What?”

Bobby shrugged. “I just dunno why you felt like you couldn’t tell me. He said you left the house.”

“Only like a month before school anyway,” Dean said, pulling a rag from his back pocket and wiping his hands. 

“You coulda come to the house. Ellen woulda loved it.”

“I know.”

Bobby pressed his lips together and nodded solemnly. “Well, then. Are you happy?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“‘Sall that matters, then,” Bobby said, rapping his hands across his thighs and standing. He was almost to the garage door when he turned around again, and Dean tensed slightly.

“By the way, that brother of yours could use some help with his oil changes, if you wouldn’t mind givin’ him a lesson or two. Makes a mess of my damn place every time he does one and I’m too old to get down and do it myself anymore.”

Dean huffed a laugh and nodded, giving Bobby a lazy salute.

“You got it, boss.”

\----

It was midday Sunday when Castiel texted him for the first time that day, save for his early good morning text.

 

Castiel:  _ Be ready at 7 tomorrow night. _

Dean: _ dont u have a 3:00 flight _

Castiel: _ Yes. _

Castiel:  _ Don’t worry about me.  _

Castiel:  _ I’ll be there at 7. _

Dean:  _ whatever u say _

Castiel:  _ Yes. _

 

Dean frowned at his phone before snickering, imagining Castiel sending the text with the straightest of faces and immediately going back to his work or meeting or whatever the hell he was doing.

 

Dean:  _ what should i wear _

Castiel:  _ A new pair of panties. _

 

Dean snorted.

 

Dean:  _ anything else? _

Castiel:  _ If you must. _

Dean:  _ public indecency is still a criminal offense _

Castiel:  _ A shame. _

_ - _ \---

“Are you done primping yet?”

Dean scoffed, his eyes fixed on the mirror as he fussed with his hair. “Shuddup, Charlie.”

She poked her head in and snorted. “Dude, your hair hasn’t moved since you were sixteen. Your sugar daddy isn’t gonna care what you look like. Now get out so I can pee.”

“Ew.”

“Out, Winchester, or I’m gonna start talking about how heavy my flow is.”

Dean practically tripped over himself to get out and grumbled when the door slammed shut. He reached down, adjusting himself in his new panties, and sat down on the couch. Castiel would be there any minute and he couldn’t seem to work off this nervous energy. It was stupid. He’d been on dates before. And he’d been with Castiel countless times now. This should be just another night, nothing to fret over. Except Castiel always made him nervous, despite how long they’d been together.

The moment he heard the overly polite knock, Dean jumped up and ran to open it, throwing himself onto a startled Castiel and kissing him hard. Castiel got on board quickly enough, wrapping his arms around Dean and effortlessly taking over. Dean submitted readily, moaning as their tongues met and Castiel pushed him up against the wall. 

“Missed you,” Dean panted when they broke, cheeks flushed, lips already swollen.

“Yes,” Castiel murmured, voice rough with arousal. “I can see that.”

Dean grinned and slid his hand down, cupping Castiel through his pants-

“Okay, not in our doorway,” Charlie sighed. “At least wait until you’re in the car.”

Castiel chuckled and smiled at her apologetically. “Sorry. It’s my fault. I’ve kept him...on edge.”

“I really don’t wanna know,” Charlie waved him off and sat down, turning on the tv. “Have fun. Use protection.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna knock me up,” Dean snickered. Castiel rolled his eyes and closed the door, pulling Dean towards the car.

“You might look cute pregnant,” Castiel hid a smile as Dean sputtered.

“ _ Dude _ .”

“Pregnancy kink is a real thing, Dean.”

“ _ Dude _ !”

Castiel shrugged and opened Dean’s door for him, shutting it behind him and going around to the driver’s side. He slid into his seat and started the car, motioning over at Dean as he pulled his seatbelt across.

“Buckle.”

Dean did as he was told, suppressing an annoyed sound when Castiel put on some kind of classical music and turned it almost all the way down. They pulled out of the apartment complex and onto the road before Dean finally spoke.

“So where are you taking me?” he asked, clasping his hands together in his lap and looking over at Castiel.

“You’ll see.”

Dean scoffed. “You’re really not gonna tell me?”

“I would prefer you to find out when we get there.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, pouting as he looked out his window. Castiel reached over after a moment to pull at his elbow, sliding his hand down Dean’s arm to take his hand. He gave it a squeeze, smiling briefly over at him.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” Dean grinned back, lacing their fingers together. 

Castiel stopped at a gas station about twenty minutes into their drive, just before they hit the city limits. He took a bag out of his backseat and kissed Dean on the cheek, proclaiming that he’d “be right back” then disappeared inside. Dean shook his head and decided to check Facebook while he waited, losing track of time when he stumbled upon an album Jess posted from a semi recent party in which Sam appeared to be in attendance of. 

He was frowning hard at his phone when the door opened and Castiel slid in, only glancing over briefly before looking back at the screen. The brief image he saw registered several seconds later and he snapped his attention back to Castiel, who was giving him a boyish grin he didn’t think he’d ever seen on him before.

“Cas, what- what the  _ hell _ ?!” Dean asked incredulously, reaching forward to tug on the old AC/DC tshirt. “Is this...this isn’t yours, is it? Did you take this out of my stuff?”

Castiel chuckled, shaking his head. “No, Dean. I was fun sometimes when I was younger. I went to a couple of their shows when they were on their Ballbreaker tour in 1996.”

“I have so many questions.” Dean said sincerely, only then taking notice of the  _ jeans _ that Castiel was wearing, immediately reaching out to touch them. They were surprisingly soft, like they’d been well worn, and they were a little tight in the thighs- which, honestly, was to be expected- and Dean thought that even in the dark he might’ve seen a small tear in one of the knees. 

“You’re so fucking hot right now.”

Castiel barked a laugh and laid his hand on Dean’s, squeezing it. “I thought I was always hot?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean fumbled with his words, too distracted by how utterly perfect those jeans hugged Castiel’s crotch. They left nothing to imagination and Dean wanted his mouth on it yesterday. “But, like, you’re never in jeans. And...just, damn, daddy, you look good.”

It was dark, but Dean  _ knows _ he saw Castiel blush as he started up the car. “I see,” he chuckled, pulling back onto the road. “Perhaps I should wear these more often then.”

“Please fucking do.”

Castiel shook his head, glancing at Dean then back at the road. “I feel as though you’re exaggerating a bit.”

“Dude,” Dean took Castiel’s free hand and pressed it to his not-even-a-little-bit-soft dick. “Does that feel like I’m exaggerating? You almost made me come and that’s just from lookin’ at ya.”

“Ah…” Castiel licked his lips and rubbed his palm against the bulge. “Either that or you just really missed me.”

“Oh I missed you,” Dean exhaled sharply, eyes fluttering. “But have you seen your thighs in those? Jesus. Bursting at the damn seams. You’re so fucking sexy, Cas, and you don’t even know it.”

“I’m starting to get an idea.”

Castiel, much to Dean’s regret, removed his hand and focused back on the road. Dean groaned and adjusted his seat, wanting nothing more than to reach down and knowing it would only earn him a slap to the hand. 

“Are you wearing panties, boy?” Castiel asked after a few minutes.

Dean grinned, looking out the window. “I’ll let you find out.”

“Unzip and show me.”

Castiel’s tone left no room for argument and Dean quickly obliged, slouching in his seat some and letting his still hard cock pop free. It tented the black satin and lace, making the little pink bow stick out comically. Castiel glanced down and hummed appreciatively, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“Good boy,” he growled, then forced his eyes back on the road. “Now put that away before I have to stop this car.”

“That’s not really a problem for me.”

“Zip up.”

Dean sighed and carefully tucked himself away, eyeing Castiel’s crotch and the obvious erection he had that he was pretending not to notice. 

“So you missed me too, then,” he said smugly, smiling at Castiel even though he wouldn’t look at him.

“I thought I’d made that clear already.”

Dean shrugged. “Always nice to know.”

When they finally pulled up to what appeared to be their destination, Dean had no clue what he was looking at. It registered a distant memory soon enough though, as Dean looked up the winding line of cars and a ticket booth, the cars disappearing behind a tall structure after they’d gotten their tickets.

“Are we- is this Hull’s??” Dean asked excitedly, looking out the window and back at Castiel. “Cas. Did you bring me to Hull’s Drive-In?”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Holy shit.” Dean grinned, looking back out the window as they pulled through enough to see part of the parking lot, with cars already lined up and the speakers hanging from their windows. “Yeah. Yeah, me, dad, and Sammy came here a lot back when we were younger. Mom did too, I think, before she died.” 

Castiel paid for the tickets and thanked the attendant, then pulled through to look for a spot. “Well, good. I don’t have to worry about you not liking our first date, then.”

“No, no, this is...this is awesome, Cas.” 

Castiel smiled softly, taking Dean’s hand, and parked when he found an empty spot. They rolled down the windows and Castiel cut the engine, turning to Dean.

“Snacks?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Like, real snacks or did you bring baby carrots?”

Castiel scoffed and got out. Dean followed, grinning like an idiot when Castiel grabbed his hand as they made their way to the concession stand. 

“I want popcorn,” Dean declared as they got at the end of the line.

“Yes, dear,” Castiel said dryly, lips quirked.

“And Milk Duds.”

“Absolutely not,” Castiel clicked his tongue. “They get stuck in your teeth and rot them.”

Dean couldn’t argue with that. They were like cement. Delicious cement.

“Then Twizzlers,” he said with a nod.

Castiel thought for a moment. “Yes, alright. Licorice is adequate. I might even eat a few pieces.”

“Wow,” Dean looked up at him and smiled teasingly. “You’re wild tonight.”

“Oh yes,” Castiel said seriously. “I may even get a soda.”

“Liquid sugar?” Dean chuckled, nudging his side.

“It’s fine on occasion.”

They got to the front and Castiel ordered Dean his junk, then chickened out and ordered a water for himself. Dean could only roll his eyes and vowed to get Cas to take at least one sip from his ridiculously huge Pepsi. 

Once back at the car, they placed the speakers in the windows.

“You know,” Dean said. “Baby is a lot better for drive-ins.”

“Why is that?” Castiel frowned down at the wheel, insulted on behalf of his sensible car.

“Because of the bench seats,” Dean shrugged. “If we were in the Impala, I could sliiiiide over and we could cuddle. Or, you know, make out. Whatever.”

“Aren’t first dates supposed to be more...innocent?”

“You’ve never been on a first date with Dean Winchester.”

Castiel snorted and took a sip of his water. “Right. Well, you’ve never been on a first date with me, either.”

“Ooh,” Dean said, grinning. “So is Castiel Novak chivalrous and prudish on his first dates?”

“Are you saying you’re rude and permissive on your first dates?”

Dean opened his mouth to make a snarky comment but the look on Castiel’s face changed his mind, and he snapped it closed and shook his head slightly. “Um, no. Of course not.” He gave a nervous laugh and look straight ahead at the advertisements playing on the massive screen. “So what are we seein’ today?”

Castiel hummed and frowned. “I'm not… _ entirely _ sure.”

Dean deadpanned. “So you brought me to the drive-in with absolutely no idea what movie is playing tonight?”

“Well, it's a double feature-”

“It always is!”

Castiel chuckled, pulling Dean close with an arm around his neck. “Isn't this more about the experience than anything else? It's our first  _ date.” _

Dean shook his head as his smile faded. “Right. Our first date. Our first real _ date.” _

Castiel smiled and handed Dean his Pepsi, holding up his water in front of them. 

“To many more,” he toasted, a little more seriously than expected.

Dean held back a laugh and humored Castiel by bumping the two styrofoam cups together, waiting until after they’d both taken a sip to chide Castiel about how toasting with a styrofoam cup of water couldn’t be considered a real toast. Castiel argued that you could have a real toast with any kind of liquid, as long as you’re sincere about the thing you’re honoring. 

His answer shouldn’t have been as touching as it was, but Dean was in his lap within seconds of him saying it, his hands in the man’s hair as he crushed their lips together.

The movie, it turned out, was  _ Dirty Dancing _ \- they’d happened to come on throwback night, which meant the first movie was always an old hit and the second would be a new release. Castiel, of course, had seen the movie. The only thing that Dean was excited about was the fact that Swayze was in it; even before Dean admitted to himself that he might possibly like guys, Swayze was one of the few who was given a pass. 

“Swayze, huh?” Castiel said with interest, stroking Dean’s hair as the boy laid his head on his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Dean said, clearing his throat. He should really be more careful with the kinds of things he says out loud. “He’s, I mean. You see him. He’s hot.”

“He was, yes.”

Dean blinked and frowned. “Oh...right. Damn, now you got me all depressed.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “Sorry,” he murmured, kissing Dean’s forehead.

“You ever wear jeans that tight?” Dean glanced up, grinning.

Castiel snorted and shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly. I, uh…”

“Have thunder thighs,” Dean squeezed one of said thighs, humming appreciatively. “Nothing to be ashamed of. They make nice ear warmers.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a second before he rolled his eyes, a blush dusting his dark cheeks.

“That is entirely inappropriate, Dean.”

“But accurate.”

Castiel huffed a laugh and turned to him, smiling gently. “You always this cheeky on dates?”

“You mean this charming? Yes.”

“You’re impossible, boy.”

Dean chuckled and settled back in, munching on his popcorn and twizzlers. Castiel occasionally nabbed a few bites of licorice and Dean even convinced him to take some sips of his Pepsi. 

“We should watch Ghost after this,” Dean murmured. “Can’t beat that one scene.”

“With the clay?” Castiel said around a mouth of popcorn.

“Hell yeah,” Dean grinned. “Ohh, my love, my darlin’...I hunger for your touch…”

“You think those abs were real?” Castiel said thoughtfully.

“Of course they were,” Dean snorted, taking a bite of licorice. “It’s Swayze, man. He was the real deal. National tragedy when he passed.” He hiked up his shirt and poked at his stomach. He’d never had abs in his life, even when he was playing football. He had a perpetual soft belly; flat, but soft. 

“What are you doing?”

“Just imagining what it’d be like to be ripped,” Dean sighed, letting the shirt drop. “But I like food too much. Like, I couldn’t give up donuts and pizza.”

“I could teach you how to make a veggie pizza,” Castiel offered, smiling when Dean made a sound of disgust.

“Dude. Pass.”

Castiel shrugged. “Better than fruit on pizza.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “How  _ dare  _ you-”

“It’s appalling-”

“It’s incredible!”

“I’d question your decision-making if it didn’t reflect poorly on me,” Castiel said, shaking his head sadly. He waited a bit, looking Dean up and down innocently. “You look amazing as is, you know. I love your body.”

Dean wanted to say something witty in retort, but all he could manage was a flustered sound that escaped his throat without his explicit permission. Finally he cleared his throat, muttering a small “shaddup” as he turned back to the movie.

“I could do that,” he said smugly with a mouth full of popcorn, gesturing to the screen during the infamous end scene with the iconic lift. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean...all it takes is a strong guy and a little balance, right?”

Castiel clicked his tongue. “Perhaps a bit more than that. Rhythm, for one. Synchronization. A great deal of trust.”

“I think we have that,” Dean said confidently, taking Castiel’s hand. “I mean, you can lift me easily.” He laid the hand on his thigh, pushing it toward his crotch slowly. “And, you know,  _ I  _ feel like we have great...rhythm. And trust. So much trust.” 

Castiel pressed his fingertips hard into Dean’s thigh before his hand could be pushed onto his crotch, clicking his tongue. “Promiscuity is unbecoming on a first date, Dean.” It didn’t stop him from giving Dean a salacious once-over, though.

“Are you-” Dean let go of his hand and turned to face him. “You’re holding out on me??”

“It would be presumptuous and inappropriate of me to expect sex on the first date,” Castiel said coolly, staring straight ahead at the movie.

A manic giggle escaped Dean. “Bullshit.”

Castiel cocked a brow, but refrained from saying anything about Dean’s smart mouth. “I plan to do this the proper way, Dean. It’s my first real date, too, you know.”

Dean frowned and turned to him, look of disbelief on his face. “You’re kidding.”

Castiel didn’t turn his gaze away from the screen as he shook his head. “I assure you, I’m not.”

“I’m sorry, but how is that possible?” Dean waved his hand at Castiel. “You’re...I mean,  _ damn _ . You didn’t date? Ever?”

“Well,” Castiel sighed, finally looking away from the movie and at Dean. “As you know, I wasn’t popular in high school. Girls, guys, no one was interested and to be frank, neither was I. College was much the same, albeit a little less bullying. I didn’t enter into any sexual relationships until I began experimenting with the BDSM world. I tried Subbing to professional Doms and quickly figured out it wasn’t for me. I began learning the intricacies of being a Dom and, well, I never planned on  _ dating _ my Subs. Not in the romantic sense. I never planned on loving my Subs that way.”

“You never planned on loving me that way,” Dean said softly, green eyes searching blue.

“No, I didn’t,” Castiel agreed, reaching up to cup Dean’s cheek and smiling. “And yet here I am, hopelessly so. So, this is my first  _ real _ first date. My last, if I play my cards right.”

Dean’s mouth went dry and he swallowed with some difficulty. “O-oh?”

Castiel’s smile was mysterious, secretive. “I wouldn’t want to have any first dates with anyone else, sweet boy.”

Dean didn’t say anything, instead just leaning on Castiel’s shoulder to watch the end of the movie and focus on keeping his hands to himself. It proved to be more difficult than it should have been, with Castiel wearing an irresistible pair of jeans and forbidding them to do anything that he might would consider  _ inappropriate. _

Fifteen minutes into  _ Thor: Ragnarok  _ Dean made the mistake of yawning, prompting Castiel to ask if approximately 10 times in the next hour if he was tired and ready to go home. He finally gave in a little less than halfway through, partly because he’d already seen this “new release”, and partly because he actually  _ was  _ a little tired, and he’s pretty sure he can stand to go over his study guide and notes for tomorrow’s test one more time-

Shit. He was starting to understand how Sammy must feel.

The drive back home felt much shorter for some reason, and Dean wouldn’t admit that he dozed off very briefly twice before they made it back to Charlie and Dean’s. He would also 100% blame it on Castiel’s stupid classical music and not the fact that he took advantage of Castiel’s long weekend away to stay up late and eat junk and watch  _ Game of Thrones _ DVDs with Charlie.

Castiel walked him to the door when they arrived, hesitating just outside when Dean unlocked it and stepped inside. He hooked his keys on his finger and raised a brow at him, holding the door open with his foot.

“Well? You comin’ inside, or-?”

Castiel swayed on his feet, smiling softly as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Dean pointedly ignored that,  _ refusing  _ to look down at the jeans again. 

“I’m...not sure how to do this in a way that doesn’t make me seem uninterested,” Castiel admitted with a cringe, leaning forward slightly.

Dean huffed and tossed his keys and wallet onto the couch. “The hell are you talkin’ about?”

“I don’t think a proper first date ends in the way we both know this will if I come through this door.”

Dean stopped and blinked, then chuckled in disbelief. “Wait. You were  _ serious _ serious about that?”

Castiel stared at him, features unhumorous. “Of course I was.”

Dean stared at him wide eyed for a moment. “You’re- wait, so you’re not gonna fuck me tonight?” 

“Not for lack of interest,” Castiel said with a blink.

“But- but-”

“I _ will _ , however, give you a goodnight kiss,” Castiel smiled, eyes twinkling.

Dean waited for the punchline, but Castiel merely looked at him expectantly, annoyingly refusing to come in. Dean finally accepted the fact that Castiel really was going to treat this as the first date, right down to the last detail. Namely that one must never put out on the first date. A rule Dean has always ignored in the past, but he wasn’t going to bring that up now.

He sighed and grumbled, trudging over to Castiel and letting the man pull him into his arms. Their lips pressed together in a frustratingly brief and chaste kiss, Castiel pulling away before Dean had the chance to deepen it. 

“Caaaas,” he whined, trying to lean back in. Castiel shook his head and held Dean back gently, smiling in amusement. 

“First date, remember?” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, sweet boy. I’ll make the wait worth it.”

“But I  _ did _ wait,” Dean huffed. “All weekend. And you’re in  _ jeans _ for chrissake.”

“I’m very much aware that you have a test tomorrow,” Castiel raised a brow. “You need to study.”

“You know, if school is gonna get in the way of you gettin’ in me, I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

Castiel got very serious then, his stance stiff. “Excuse me?”

“What?”

“Did you-” Castiel paused, licking his lips quickly. “Did you just insinuate that your  _ education _ is not as important as me fucking you tonight?”

“Um. No.”

Castiel stared for what felt like a long time before breaking it and looking around the room behind Dean. “Is Charlie home?”

“Uh...no. No, she’s out with Dorothy again tonight.”

“I see.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, inching back closer to Castiel and crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I’ll be here all alone tonight, probably. I think you would actually being doing me a disservice to leave tonight. You know, bein’ that you insist on taking care of me, and all.” He tried to hide a grin as he pressed up against Castiel, looking up at him through his lashes. 

Castiel relaxed against him marginally, one hand coming to rest innocently on Dean’s hip. He met his gaze and leaned closer, noses almost brushing.

“You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?”

Dean grinned as he pressed his lips to Castiel’s. “I know.”

“I should punish you.”

“ _ God, please  _ do.”

“Very well.”

“Cas- wait, wha-”

Dean had little chance to speak before Castiel was on him, pushing him further into the small living room and pinning him down onto the couch. Dean groaned when his hands were forced above his head by a strong grip and Castiel’s solid weight settled on top of him.

“What shall I do with you?” Castiel murmured thoughtfully, licking his lips.

“I think we’ve established you can pretty do whatever you want with me,” Dean smirked, arching up against the other man and shuddering pleasantly when he found he couldn’t move. “I’ve never told you no.”

Castiel chuckled softly, his free hand finding Dean’s throat and resting innocently there. “Your eagerness for experimenting has been rather beneficial for me.” He frowned around at the room and sighed. “I don’t have any of my equipment here, unfortunately.”

“I may, uh, have a few things,” Dean murmured, a blush on his cheeks.

Castiel’s gaze snapped back to him. “Oh?”

“Yeah, you know, nothin’ like what you got back at home, but…” he cleared his throat, wiggling a bit underneath Castiel’s weight. “I, uh, went to a shop nearby. They had some stuff. You know, I figured something like this might come up...would be nice to have some things for you to torture me with.”

Castiel’s lips quirked into a very pleased smile and he leaned down, brushing them against Dean’s. “And what did you get, boy?”

“S-some handcuffs,” Dean swallowed. “Ah, some of that rope you like to use on me. And….uh…”

“Yes?”

“A, uh...flogger.”

Castiel raised a brow. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Dean coughed, licking his lips. “You know, it’s got this really soft leather on one side and rabbit fur on the other...the, uh, lady said it was good for play and aftercare. Good for those who don’t want  _ too _ much of a sting, you know.”

“What I wouldn’t have given to see the blush on your cheeks as you discussed your sexual preferences with a stranger.”

Dean gave a small smile and arched up against Castiel as much as possible. “She  _ did  _ kind of seem interested in the idea of using them on me herself.”

It was true, he thought. The shop owner, Meg, seemed utterly disinterested until Dean said something that gave the distinct impression that the toys were to be used  _ on  _ him, instead of by him. After that she became much more helpful, even going as far as to explain differences in sensation of multiple floggers and which she preferred to use. 

Castiel’s expression turned very neutral and he leaned down slightly, nosing along Dean’s jaw. “Was something said?”

“No, no,” Dean said quickly, suddenly fearing his little tease would have the opposite effect. “She was very knowledgeable, and she didn’t say or do anything you would disapprove of once she knew I was spoken for.”

“And before?”

Dean swallowed, taking a shaky breath as Castiel kissed down his neck. “J-just that she l-loved spanking her Subs with freckles, because they popped against red skin.”

Castiel hummed against his throat, finally looking back up at him. His pupils were dilated and he looked ready to devour Dean whole, instead of the jealous frustration that Dean sort of expected.

Dean huffed an incredulous laugh. “You like the idea of someone else dominating me?”

“Let me be clear, Dean. I would never let another person touch you. You are  _ mine,  _ and mine only, until you decide otherwise.” Castiel brushed a thumb over Dean’s bottom lip, biting his own. “But the idea, the mere image, of watching you be dominated? It’s...well. It would allow me to focus on other things about you that I can’t when I’m otherwise occupied. There’s a lot I don’t see, or can’t focus on, when I’m the one dominating you.” 

Dean hummed and watched Castiel’s hand slide over his throat and chest. “I guess I can see the value in that,” he said with a shrug. “But, to be honest, I don’t want anyone else dominating me. I wouldn’t  _ trust _ anyone else to do that.”

“I tend to agree with that,” Castiel nodded.

“But maybe we can record ourselves,” Dean smirked up at him. “Give you something to...study.”

Castiel blinked, looking oddly sheepish. “I...I’ve never thought of that.”

Dean snorted a laugh and shook his head. “For a genius, you can be kinda-”

“Yes, yes,” Castiel huffed, grabbing Dean’s chin roughly and forcing his next words to die. “We really need to work on that mouth of yours, boy.”

He pulled Dean up and practically pushed the boy into his room, shutting the door behind him firmly and locking it. Dean bounced onto the bed, grinning cheekily.

“Undress.”

Dean obeyed, kicking off his jeans and shirt, leaving the panties on and fingering the lace. Castiel looked him up and down heatedly, possessively, and bit his bottom lip hungrily. 

“Where are these toys you got for us, sweet boy?”

“Closet,” Dean murmured, laying back on the bed and spreading himself out.

Castiel hummed, eyeballing Dean a little while longer, then rummaged through the closet. He found the box hidden underneath a gym bag and pulled it out, humming as he dug through the contents.

“Oh…” he gripped the handle of the flogger, holding it out and running his fingers along the soft fur and supple leather. “This is quite nice, Dean.” He narrowed his eyes at the boy, who had now flipped over onto his stomach to show off his ass. “How much did you spend on this?”

“Mm, enough,” Dean snorted, thrusting his hips out to raise himself just slightly off the bed. “You gonna argue with me about money or are you gonna use that on me?”

Castiel leaned over the bed enough to give Dean a lazy smack on the ass with the flogger before tossing it to the bed and returning to the box. He pulled out the ropes and handcuffs, frowning down at them in his hands before finally dropping the cuffs back to the box and wrapping the rope around his hands.

“No handcuffs?” Dean raised a brow.

“Mm, not today,” Castiel said, unfurling the rope and letting it pool at his feet. “Clasp your hands behind your back.”

Dean let out a breath and did as he was told, straining to look back at Castiel as he crawled onto the bed. Castiel knelt beside him and began wrapping his wrists with the rope, around and through the small hoops he was making, pulling it tighter as he went. When he was done he gave a small tug, sliding some of the leftover rope through his fingers.

“Try to move them a bit, make sure it’s comfortable.”

The knot was tight, but not so tight that Dean was in immediate danger of losing blood flow. “It’s fine.”

“Not too tight?”

“No, daddy.”

“Good boy.” 

Castiel shifted on the bed, folding Dean’s legs up as he settled behind him. He rested the boy’s feet against his chest as he strung the rope between them as well, slowly, occasionally letting his fingers ghost down his legs. He gave a hard tug on the end of the rope, and suddenly Dean found his wrists and ankles bound together, with only a small length of rope between them. His cock was already hard, uncomfortably pressed beneath him but every so often rubbing against the soft satin of his panties in the most perfect way. He felt vulnerable and yet somehow safe, but his heart was beating in his ears with the anticipation.

“A shame I can’t fuck you this way,” Castiel murmured, running his hands up the curve of Dean’s ass. “Hmmm. I should try suspending you sometime, or even getting you in the swing…”

“Can we focus on now, please,” Dean ground out impatiently, trying his best to move his body any kind of way that might entice Castiel and failing miserably. He groaned when Castiel suddenly fisted a hand into his hair and pulled his head back, the pain almost immediately transforming into pleasure in its route down to his dick.

It still amazed Dean, sometimes, how attuned he’d become to Castiel and his domination. It was like second nature for him now, trusting that any pain Castiel would cause him was for the purpose of pleasure. He didn’t even have to physically make the switch in his head anymore; his body, his brain, did it all for him. Castiel’s treatment, his  _ care plan _ , had really worked, and Dean was unsure whether to be proud of himself for that or a little afraid.

“Only you could manage to be bratty while hogtied,” Castiel said flatly, pushing the boy’s head back to the bed. He moved on his knees around to Dean’s head, giving his cheek a soft slap as he worked his pants open and part way down his thighs. “Open up, boy.”

Dean eagerly let his jaw fall open and choked when Castiel shoved his cock inside, the head hitting the back of his throat and balls hitting his chin. Dean quickly adjusted his breathing, his jaw slacking to take in the girth. Castiel cupped his jaw and shifted on his knees, his eyes hooded as he watched Dean take him in.

“Good boy,” he breathed, sliding out briefly to allow Dean to grab some air before he snapped back in. “Ah, you’ve gotten so good at this, baby. Look so gorgeous with those pretty lips wrapped around me. You have a mouth made for fucking.”

Dean moaned around Castiel’s cock, eyes fluttering until he felt a sharp slap to his cheek. They snapped open and he stared up at his Dom as Castiel began a slow pace, holding Dean’s head steady as he slid in and out of that wet heat. 

“That’s beautiful, sweet boy,” Castiel groaned, gaining speed with each thrust. “Fuck, look at you. Hungry for it, aren’t you? Love daddy’s cock jammed down your throat.”

Dean blushed and would’ve nodded if he could. As it was, all he could do was suck harder, swallowing around the head and breathing carefully through his nose. He might never understand why, but this was his element. Tied up, vulnerable, with Castiel’s cock stuffing him full, completely at the man’s mercy.

“Fuck,” Castiel growled, gripping Dean's hair tightly as he pumped in and out. “I had planned to come in that tight little hole of yours, but I don't think I can wait. I suppose this hole will have to suffice.”

Dean groaned and tears sprang to his eyes when Castiel promptly picked up his pace, thoroughly fucking his mouth, barely giving Dean a chance to breathe. It wasn't long before he was coming, pressing deep and letting out a long groan, holding Dean's head with both hands. 

Dean felt like he'd barely tasted Castiel's bittersweet release when the man pulled out, and he sucked in a gasping breath as Castiel panted above him. He jerked his cock a little as he dribbled more cum across Dean's face and in his hair, mouth hanging open as he looked down at him. 

“Yes, sweet boy...you look just as lovely as I remember,” Castiel whispered, petting Dean's hair gently. “Fucking love seeing you like this.”

Dean licked his lips, moaning softly. 

“Aw, you missed it, didn't you, baby?” Castiel crooned, stroking his cheek, smearing a bead of cum along his skin. “Here. Have a taste.”

He slid the finger between Dean's lips, pressing it to his tongue. Dean immediately lapped it up, swallowing it down. It wasn’t a taste he should love, but he did, and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Good boy,” Castiel purred, slipping his thumb from Dean’s mouth and chuckling when the boy chased it. 

Dean panted, licking his lips, blinking up at Castiel. He squirmed, his cock straining underneath him. 

“Did you come yet?” Castiel asked, raising a brow. 

Dean quickly shook his head and whined low in his throat. “Please, daddy,” he begged. 

“Patience, sweet boy,” Castiel chuckled, stroking his cheek gently. “I’ll take care of you.”

Castiel moved off the bed and tucked himself away, zipping up before he moved around the bed. He grabbed the flogger, running the straps of leather and fur through his fingers. He moved behind Dean and dangled the tips of the straps over the boy’s vulnerable ass. The hogtie covered up some, but there was still enough of those pretty cheeks exposed to have some fun with. 

“How long has it been since I've fucked you, boy?”

Dean tried to remember, putting classes and activities to days. 

“T- Tuesday, daddy,” Dean rasped, pulling gently on his bindings. The cum on his face was beginning to cool and become sticky and uncomfortable, but he was distracted from it as Castiel dragged the soft fur of the flogger over his skin. 

“Six days, then,” Castiel said. “So I'm going to spank you with this six times, one for each day you complacently went without my cock inside you.”

“But I didn't-”

The flogger whipped through the air, the leather side connecting with his right cheek with a satisfying _ slap _ and leaving Dean with a delayed jolt of pain. He moaned, pressing the side of his face into the pillow. 

“And one for your smart mouth,” Castiel explained, and Dean could hear the smirk in his voice. “Now count.”

When the leather hissed through the air a second time, Dean was quick to yell out a “one”, trying to race the pain turned pleasure to his cock. The next slap was close behind it, slightly harder to the first. Dean took a second to yelp and groan before speaking. 

“Two.”

A slap came down again, the sound of leather across skin loud in Dean’s ears. He choked out a “three”, whole body quivering, on the verge of orgasm. He jerked on the fourth, his voice muffled as he called out the number. 

“I just love the way this cute little ass jiggles when I spank you,” Castiel hummed, pausing to reach out and squeeze a red cheek. 

“Daddy,” Dean gasped, his arms straining against the rope, his cock trapped and uncomfortable as it throbbed for release. “Please, daddy. Keep going.”

Castiel chuckled and flogger whipped down, making the red on the cheek deeper. Dean groaned out a “five”, panting now, wishing he could grind down but unable to move even a little bit. Castiel teased, dangling the tips over Dean’s sensitive skin, making the boy twitch and groan needily. He was the edge and Castiel knew it, cruelly keeping him from tipping over.

“Close, baby?” Castiel asked, as if he didn’t know.

“Yes,” Dean choked desperately, eyes squeezed shut, the sheets beneath him uncomfortably wet from his leaking cock. “Daddy, please, I was good. Let me-” 

Dean yelped loudly as the final slap came down hard and his “six” was lost in his loud moaning as he came. He trembled and squirmed, his hips trying to grind down as his cock pulsed beneath him. 

Castiel tsked, dropping the flogger to the bed in favor of squeezing handfuls of Dean’s sore ass. He rolled him gently to his side as Dean’s cock leaked the rest of his release down its shaft and onto the bed.

“Look at that,” Castiel said, disappointment in his tone. “You made a mess, baby. What am I gonna do with you?”

Dean could do nothing but groan. He felt like the complete mess Castiel claimed he was, Castiel’s cum nearly dried on his face and in his hair, his own coating his cock and smeared along his abdomen. 

Castiel ran a hand through Dean’s hair, gently cradling the back of his head. “I suppose I better take and clean you up. What do you say, sweet boy?” 

“Please, daddy,” Dean begged sweetly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Castiel hummed and turned Dean over again. Dean winced at the cold wetness on his front and the slight discomfort of Castiel pulling on the rope between his hands and feet. Finally it released, and Dean’s arms and legs fell bonelessly back to the bed as he let out a grunt. Castiel took a minute to pay special attention to each of his wrists and ankles, kissing and massaging the soreness out of them.

“I sure have missed you, baby,” Castiel said softly as he pulled Dean into his arms, carrying him mostly effortlessly to the bathroom. If Dean had been more conscious at the time, he would’ve still worried that Charlie would come home and see him, naked in his Dom’s arms, covered in cum. He wanted to hate how much he liked it.

Since the tub was so  _ tiny _ , Castiel remained on the other side of it as he lowered Dean inside. He filled it up quickly with warm water and pulled their bath essentials out of from the back of the cabinet.

Dean, his limbs boneless, sighed and sat back as Castiel got to work with the oils. He hoped Charlie would stay with Dorothy tonight, otherwise something like this would be hard to explain. 

“Feel okay?” Castiel asked softly, rubbing the lavender oil over Dean’s chest and up his neck.

“Feel fuckin’ great,” Dean chuckled lazily, his eyes closed and an arm hanging over the side of the tub. 

Castiel smiled, pausing to thumb at Dean’s bottom lip. “You were amazing, sweet boy. It’s quite something, how much you’ve blossomed under all this. You’ve taken to Subbing so well, one would think you’ve doing this for much longer than you actually have.”

Dean shrugged and nipped at Castiel’s thumb. “It probably has a lot to do with the one who is dominating me.”

Castiel quirked a smile. “I prefer to give you the credit.”

Dean sighed, not bothered enough to even open his eyes. “You would.”

Castiel slid his hand down Dean’s arm, taking his wrist between his hands and working oil into the indent from the rope. “Now look at you. Only just coming down, and you have to be up for school in a few short hours. With a test, no less.” He clicked his tongue. “It was irresponsible of me to do this. Now if you fail-”

“I’m ready for the test, Cas,” Dean grumbled, popping one eye open. “I studied my ass off all weekend. But this-” he pulled his wrist away from Castiel’s grip to replace it with the other, “- _ this  _ is what I needed. So thank you.”

“It feels self-indulgent if I say you’re welcome.”

“Don’t, then.” Dean shrugged, sitting up slightly in the tub and opening both his eyes. “So you’ll go home now, huh?”

“I’m afraid going home would also be irresponsible at this juncture.” Castiel gestured pointedly at Dean’s state, which was currently splayed out in a small tub with actual ligature marks around his wrists and ankles, muscles aching.

“Awesome.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Did you plan this?”

He shrugged, holding back a smile. “Maybe.”

Castiel looked down at Dean’s wrist, taking extra care to massage well as he tried to hide his own smile. “Minx.”

Dean smirked. “Yup.”

\----

“Could you have picked more of a dive?” Sam said grumpily, frowning down at the greasy smudges on the table.

“It’s  _ pizza _ ,” Dean smirked, taking a ridiculously large bite of his ridiculously large slice of pepperoni pizza. “You can’t tell me you don’t like pizza. I used to bring you here all the time.”

Sam frowned for another couple of seconds before he huffed a small laugh, smiling softly. “Yeah...I remember. I would bug you for quarters.”

Dean rolled his eyes and cast a glance around the joint. It hadn’t changed at all except everything looked just a little older. Black and white checkered floors, red vinyl booths, walls filled with pictures of the local high school team and students. There was even some of Dean and Sam somewhere. Arcade games were packed into another, smaller, room and was where Dean would often have to drag Sam away from when it was time to go. Currently the place was mostly taken up by its usual customers, high school kids celebrating the end of another week of school. 

“You want some?” Dean teased, digging into his pocket and producing a handful of quarters. “You can try and beat your high score on Pac-Man.”

“Shut up,” Sam huffed, finally taking a bite of his own slice. “You’re just jealous  _ you _ could never beat it.”

“Please,” Dean snorted. “I just let you beat me. Big brother and all. I had to give you something over me.”

“Uh huh,” Sam chuckled. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he chewed his bite of pizza obnoxiously, wiping his hands on a balled-up napkin. “So how you doin’, kid?”

Sam glared at him. “Fourteen, Dean.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Sam smirked down at his plate and shrugged. “I’m good. Grades are good. Jess and I are good.”

Dean raised a brow until Sam looked up at him. “Wanna elaborate?”

“I’m doing fine, Dean. I know you worry but you really don’t need to.” He sat his pizza on his plate and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Dad’s, uh...he’s working less overtime now. Spendin’ more time at home. Dunno if that means he got a raise or what-”

Dean straightened a little at that, filing the information away for later to ask Castiel about.

“-but he’s taking me to school at least a couple mornings a week, he’s usually home pretty early. We go do something together once a week.” He snorted. “He insists on it. Oh, and he’s taking cooking classes, by the way.”

Dean choked on his pizza. “What?!”

“Well, not actual classes, but he’s watching Youtube videos. I came home to find him on my computer one day taking notes. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen.” Sam chuckled and took another bite of pizza, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “And, by the way, he’s super impressed with the computer. I don’t think he realized until I explained it to him that you literally  _ made _ the entire thing yourself.”

Dean felt his cheeks heat and he looked down at his plate. “Yeah, well…”

“Have you talked to him?”

Dean hummed and tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, a little. He calls at least once a week. Finally came to see the place about a week ago. He seems...good. Better.”

“He took all the liquor out of the house.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “No shit.”

Sam nodded as he chewed another bite. “Yeah. I mean, he still has a six pack to himself every couple of nights, but...it’s an improvement. He’s trying.”

Dean hummed quietly, taking another bite and glancing out the window as he swallowed.

“You okay?” Sam asked, frowning.

“Yeah, just…” he shrugged with a sigh, “kinda wish he would have done all this when I still lived there, you know?”

Sam nodded and looked down at the table. “Yeah...I know. Dean, I...I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you.”

Dean raised a brow. “For what?”

“For...everything,” Sam huffed a laugh. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I didn’t realize how much you did until you left.  I know Dad never really thanked you and I think you deserve to hear it. You took care of both of us and I want you to know it’s not gone unnoticed. At least, not anymore.”

Dean licked his lips and glanced away, picking at the crust of his pizza. “Not a big deal, Sammy.”

“Yeah it is,” Sam said easily. “And I know you don’t like this kind of stuff, but it’s still needed to be said.”

“Alright, you done sayin’ it now?” Dean grumbled, chewing on another bite.

“Yep.”

“Good. Bitch.”

Sam grinned. “Jerk.”

“Finish your damn pizza and I’ll give you quarters to go play. I know you want to.”

Sam didn’t bother to argue. Dean knew him too well.

\----

Dean absolutely, positively, did  _ not  _ tear up on the way to Castiel’s house when he recounted everything Sam had said. He’d always taken care of Sam, and most days John, because he was good at it, because they needed it, and he’d never really realized how much it would mean to him to hear how much it was appreciated. John was never one to be good with words, or expressing how he felt, but Dean got the feeling over the last couple of weeks especially that he was putting in effort to be better about it. He was reaching out, asking how he was, about his classes, how things were with Castiel. It was more than Dean ever imagined he would get from his father.

And even though- by Castiel’s diagnosis- his issues laid largely in his relationship with his father and the role he was forced into at a young age, hearing Sammy thank him for everything he selflessly did was what Dean felt like he really needed to hear. Sam was a better person because of him, he had a charmed life because of him, and now he was mature enough to realize it.

He was sniffling and wiping his red-rimmed eyes when he walked into Castiel’s house. He dropped his backpack by the door and poked his head in the sitting room where Castiel normally resided in the evening, watching television or reading or working on his laptop. It was empty, the fireplace crackling despite the fact that it was still decently warm outside. He walked through to the door on the far wall, finding most of the lights on the rest of the bottom floor off, and started up the staircase.

The hall upstairs was dark as well, which made it easy to find Castiel in his study, light streaming from under the door. He smiled to himself and opened the door quietly, discovering Castiel sitting at his desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and glasses propped on his nose, a cigarette dangling between two fingers, smoke twisting into the still air. He was leaned back in his chair, his feet on the top of his desk, face scrunched in concentration as he read from the thick book in his hands.

He looked up and smiled, bookmarking his page with a finger and taking off his glasses. 

“Dean.”

His voice was warm and soft, and even though Dean had spoken to him on the phone just earlier that day, it still made his heart swell to hear his name on the man’s tongue. 

Dean smiled at him. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel took another look at the page he was on, then tossed the book to the desk, sitting his glasses on top of it. He removed his feet from his desk and placed the cigarette between his lips, patting his thigh invitingly.

Dean huffed a half-laugh and walked over, straddling Castiel’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. Castiel pulled the cigarette from between his lips and inhaled sharply, his free hand coming to rest on Dean’s hip.

“How was your day, honey?” Castiel asked with a bit of a smirk, turning his head slightly to exhale the smoke.

“Good,” Dean said with a shrug, a smile tugging on his lips as he played with the curls of hair on the back of Cas’s neck. “You’re lookin’ pretty sexy.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Castiel chuckled, setting his cigarette down in the ashtray. “How was your visit with Sam?”

“Good,” Dean slid a hand over Castiel’s neck, playing with his shirt collar. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Stayin’ out of trouble, at least. Grades are good.” He paused, undoing the top button of Castiel’s shirt. “He, uh...thanked me. For raisin’ him and stuff.”

Castiel raised a brow at that. “Oh?” he murmured, blue eyes staring intensely. 

“Mm,” Dean nodded, keeping his gaze down and watching his fingers tug at Castiel’s buttons. “Said he realized how much I’d done for him or whatever.”

“And I imagine you downplayed it like you’re doing now,” Castiel said softly.

Dean shrugged. He couldn’t really argue. “Sammy’s a good kid,” he finally said, looking up. “I can at least say I did that right.”

“I think you can say a bit more than that,” Castiel said, grabbing Dean’s hands and effectively stilling them. “But I know you won’t.”

“I like these glasses on you,” Dean smirked. “You know, we could still do like a professor/student thing.”

“Dean…”

“Maybe I failed the final,” Dean went on, leaning in close to nip at Castiel’s ear. “And I would do... _ anything _ to pass the class.”

“That is the most cliched scenario,” Castiel huffed, rolling his eyes. “And you’re changing the subject.”

“You’ve already got me in your lap,” Dean shrugged. “And we’re in an office setting. Oh, maybe I’m an eager intern and you’re the big, mean bossman who-”

“Alright, I can see I’ve lost you,” Castiel chuckled, shaking his head. “But don’t think I’m going to forget this conversation.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna fuck me now?” Dean rolled his hips, feeling Castiel’s answering bulge underneath his ass. Despite the man’s words, he was clearly interested in Dean’s ‘cliched’ fantasies. 

“I’m not sure I should encourage this kind of behavior.”

“But you’re going to anyway.”

Castiel sighed. “You’ve been an awful influence to my resolve. Or lack thereof.”

Dean grinned, tugging at the collar of Castiel’s shirt. “And I  _ pride _ myself on that.”

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“You should be so lucky,” Dean said teasingly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he worked open another button.

“Alright then, boy.” Castiel swiftly slapped Dean’s ass, pressing his fingers roughly into his jeans. “I’ll show you just how thankful  _ I _ am for you.” He stood and placed Dean carefully on his feet, ghosting the hand not gripping his hip up his body and onto his shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze, staring intensely into his eyes. He smiled slowly.

“On your knees.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue:  
> This takes place a little over a year after the last chapter, during Dean's sophomore year (just before his 20th birthday).

**_Epilogue_ **

Dean dropped his bags on the floor in front of the bed, making a beeline for the curtains lining the far wall. He ripped them open and stared down at the street below, the massive buildings all around, heard people yelling and horns honking. He turned and grinned at Castiel, who was currently picking Dean’s things up from the floor and placing them neatly on the bed.

“And it’s the same room?”

Castiel smiled as he rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yes. I had to book almost a year ago and put in...several special requests, but I told them I had to have this one. I seem to remember it having the perfect view.”

“Aww, Cas, you sap.” Dean crossed over to him and pecked him on the lips, then sat on the end of the bed, laying down and looking up at Castiel. 

“You seem to bring it out in me.” Castiel reached down to pat him on the leg as he pulled out his phone, frowning down at it.

“Ana?”

“Mmm. Making sure we arrived safely. Asked if you puked on the plane.”

Dean scowled. “Tell her I said to  _ eat me _ .”

“I’m afraid,” Castiel said slowly, thumbs flying over the surface of his phone before he tossed it onto the bed and stepped between Dean’s legs, sliding his hands up his thighs, “that’s my job, sweet boy.”

“Mmm,” Dean bit his bottom lip. “And you do a damn fine job of it, too.”

“Yes, one of the few skills I can’t put on my resume,” Castiel sighed regretfully.

“Like you need one,” Dean snorted, bending a knee as Castiel settled between his thighs. “People like you get head hunted.”

“I don’t get quite as many offers as I once did,” Castiel smiled and shrugged, sliding a hand up Dean’s shirt, pushing it up. “Some companies think youth is more valuable than experience.”

“Well, fuck them.”

“I’d rather not.”

Dean huffed and rolled his eyes. “Stop being a smart ass. You’re not even old anyway, so what do they know.”

“I feel old sometimes,” Castiel murmured, fingers grazing Dean’s belly.

“I can fix that in a real hurry,” Dean grinned up at him. “You just let me know, daddy. I’ll make you feel  _ very _ young.”

Castiel blinked then chuckled quietly, caging Dean with his arms and leaning down for a kiss. 

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips. “And you make me feel many good things.”

“I love you too,” Dean said, kissing him again as he pulled his shirt out of his slacks and laid his hands against warm skin.

Castiel dipped his head to press a kiss to Dean’s bare chest, then pulled back enough to pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the side. “Did you do what I asked this morning?”

Dean blushed and squirmed slightly, his attention suddenly back on the stretch of the plug in his ass and the feel of his hardening cock against soft lace. He licked his lips and moved his hands to Castiel’s collar, slowly undoing buttons. He nodded.

“Yes.”

Castiel groaned softly, dropping his forehead to Dean’s chest. “You are perfection, sweet boy.”

Dean smiled as he wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t you like to see?”

Castiel kissed his chest again and stood, unbuttoning his own shirt the rest of the way. “Yes. Take your clothes off and assume inspection pose.”

Dean toed off his shoes and pulled off his socks, kicking them to the side as he stood and unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed them down his legs, holding a hand over his barely-contained cock while he stepped out of them. Castiel watched him with an unreadable expression, shrugging out of his shirt, eyes roaming Dean’s body. Dean took a deep breath as he turned, climbing back onto the bed and arching his back.

There were a few long moments of silence before Dean felt Castiel’s hands on his backside, kneading and pulling, tugging at the sliver of fabric between his cheeks. He hummed softly and Dean jumped when he felt teeth graze a cheek, followed closely by Castiel prodding at the plug. Dean sucked in a breath and shivered when Castiel twisted it, pulled it out a little and pushed it back in, and it took everything for him to not fold in on himself.

“I bet this made the plane ride interesting,” Castiel mused, voice low.

Dean had, in fact, been  _ very  _ aware of the fact that he was wearing a plug during the ride, and it absolutely did not help that Castiel was practically edging him under their shared blanket.

“Yes, daddy.”

Castiel ran a hand down between Dean’s legs, gently caressing his sac with his palm as his fingertips met his shaft. He trailed two fingers down to the head, teasingly running them over the slit.

“You look gorgeous like this, sweet boy,” Castiel squeezed the base and Dean groaned lowly, fighting to keep his hips still. “So pretty in your panties.”

Dean blushed heavily, still sometimes having a hard time admitting he liked being called pretty. He wasn’t sure why that was more embarrassing than calling Castiel daddy, but he tried not to think about the ‘whys’ too much when it came to their play.

“Do you feel pretty?” Castiel asked.

Dean swallowed and nodded jerkily. “Y-yes, daddy.”

“Hmm, good,” Castiel chuckled. Dean heard some rustling then he felt Castiel’s bare cock press between his cheeks. He shuddered, fingers clenching the sheets, his cock twitching needily. 

“What a sight you make,” Castiel murmured, running a hand up Dean’s spine and rolling his hips once. “You have the perfect ass for this, boy. It’s just begging for a spanking…”

Dean choked on a groan and couldn’t help it, pushing back just slightly to feel Castiel’s cock slide against his hole. Castiel chuckled and kneaded a globe, pulling his cheeks apart and prodding the plug again. 

“That what you want?” Castiel asked, and Dean could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me, sweet boy.”

“Yes, daddy,” Dean breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I want you to spank me. Please…”

Castiel hummed and slowly and carefully dragged his cock over Dean’s sensitive backside. “I’ll spank you, since you asked so nicely. But you aren’t to come that way, because I want you to come on my cock. Do you understand?”

Dean nodded desperately, yelping softly when a hard smack landed directly on his right cheek. “Y-yes, daddy.”

“That’s my boy.” Castiel laid his hands on Dean’s back and slid them slowly down, squeezing his ass again before pressing a kiss on the left cheek. He pulled away completely then and Dean waited for instructions as he felt the bed dip behind him.

“Come, Dean.”

Dean moved quickly and deliberately, draping himself over Castiel’s lap, hands fisting into the comforter below them. He turned his head to the side and pressed his cheek against the pristine white bedspread, goosebumps littering his skin as Castiel ran a hand up from the back of his knee to his shoulder blade.

“How many do you think you should get?” Castiel asked casually, rubbing his hand frustratingly gently against his backside. 

Dean knew the answer before Castiel even asked. “Seven, daddy.”

“Oh? Why seven?”

“One for each magical month we’ve lived together,” Dean said with a small smile, pressing his ass up against Castiel’s hand.

Castiel was quiet for a moment before he chuckled. “I think that’s a very good reason you should get them all. You think you can do seven without coming?”

Dean wasn’t  _ entirely _ confident, if he was being honest, but he nodded anyway. Castiel popped his thigh and Dean jerked. “Yes, daddy,” he said quickly, licking his lips. 

“Hmm, we shall see,” Castiel hummed, trailing his fingers up Dean’s cheek. “Count, boy,” was all Dean got before the first one came down, the slap loud and sharp.

Dean gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, uttering a “one” and mentally preparing himself for what he knew was going to be an onslaught. Castiel wasn’t holding back, the second and third slaps stinging even more than the first. Dean’s cock was throbbing already, soaking the thin material of the panties with precum. If he didn’t come it would be a miracle, but Dean was determined to please.

“Four,” he whimpered, his ass undoubtedly red. Castiel paused, running his fingers over the abused cheek soothingly. 

“So good, sweet boy,” Castiel said lowly. “You have any idea how much this turns me on? I can’t wait to get inside this tight little ass.”

Dean blushed and squirmed, his hole clenching around the plug and his cock twitching threateningly. 

“Daddy, please,” he begged, uncaring of how he sounded. “Don’t tease me.”

“Shh,” Castiel slipped a finger down his crack, circling his stretched rim. “You know I’m going to take care of you, baby.”

The fifth and sixth slap followed rapidly, each harder than the last, and Dean loved it. His voice cracked as he counted them, eyes stinging with unshed tears. Castiel, blessedly, paused again or else Dean may have lost his load. He had a few seconds to regain himself before the seventh and final one came down, and Dean grinded his teeth as he fought the orgasm throbbing just below the surface.

“That pretty cock of yours wants my attention, it seems,” Castiel said finally, and Dean jerked as he ran a hand over his sore ass, pushing against it, trapping Dean’s painfully hard cock between him and Castiel’s thigh.

“Yes, daddy, please…” Dean begged, forcing himself not to rut against the man’s thigh. 

“Turn over. Let me see you.”

Dean took a deep breath before turning slowly, each movement creating unexpected sensations. He hissed as his cock dragged against the panties, letting out a relieved breath when he landed on his back. Dean winced at the pain on his ass despite Castiel adjusting him gently, then relaxed again when Castiel put his hands on him again.

“It’s incredible, watching which parts of you change when we do this,” Castiel said softly, one hand playing with a nipple while the other innocently cupped his sac. “You go red from here-” he drew a line along Dean’s collarbone, “up. I can see beads of sweat forming along your hairline. Then goosebumps...all along your torso…” he trailed a hand down, creating more of them in his wake. “Your cock turns a beautiful shade of red. And when I do this enough-” he touched the shaft through the thin lace with two fingers, one on each side, slowly stroking and avoiding the head, “it turns a lovely purple.” 

Dean groaned and squirmed, and Castiel grinned as he raised a thumb to his lips. Dean watched him with hitched breath as he stuck the thumb in his mouth briefly, wetting it, then slid the panties to the side and immediately pressed it to Dean’s slit.

“Daddy, please, don’t-”

“Don’t you dare come, boy,” Castiel said, slowly circling his thumb into the slit and around the head. He paused, giving Dean a second to compose himself, then slowly began stroking again with the two fingers on either side of his shaft, all the way up to the head and back down about halfway. 

Dean suppressed a whimper, looking up at Castiel with watery eyes, clenching his fists by his sides. Castiel moved his fingers monumentally slow; much too slow for Dean to get off on easily, but enough to set his skin aflame with the overstimulation.

“It’ll be much more crowded out there tonight,” Castiel said, looking to the window. “Much more of a chance you’ll be seen when I press you up against that glass.  _ Oh _ , but you’ll  _ love _ that, won’t you, sweet boy? You love being watched. You love being  _ seen. _ ”

Dean whined pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut and clawing desperately at the sheets. His eyes snapped open when Cas popped him sharply on the cheek and whimpered when Cas looked down at him with firm disapproval.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers pausing at the base and squeezing gently. 

“Daddy,” Dean begged, his cock throbbing painfully.

“You’d like them to see you, won’t you, baby?” Cas continued, tilting his head and watching Dean with an almost curious expression. “You could come just from thinking about it. Want me to press you up against the glass and fuck you hard, and let everyone see how much you love taking my cock. You want everyone to watch you come all over the window.”

Dean sucked in a breath, his cock twitching, and he choked as he barely suppressed himself from coming all over Cas’s hand.

“Please, daddy,” Dean whispered in a broken voice, a few tears escaping. “I can’t hold it anymore. I’m gonna come if you keep-”

“You won’t if you want to get fucked tonight,” Cas said darkly. He paused, watching Dean struggle with a frustratingly calm expression, then smiled slowly. “But you’ve been so good...I suppose I can cut the torture short.”

Dean breathed a long sigh of relief when Cas released his cock and practically sagged, dragging in air he hadn’t realized he’d been denying himself. 

“Stand, boy.”

Dean obliged and Castiel maneuvered him with strong hands on his hips, turning him the opposite direction and pulling him into his lap. He reached over into one of their bags and pulled out a bottle of lube, sliding the other hand down to prod at the plug. Dean’s head fell back and he let out a moan when Castiel pressed a kiss to his shoulder as he pulled the plug free.

“The sounds you make drive me wild,” Castiel whispered, kissing between his shoulder blades. Dean shivered as the warmth of his hands disappeared and he heard the cap of the lube pop, then slick fingers were pressing against his rim. Castiel wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and pushed those fingers inside, pulling Dean down on them.

“I want you to ride me this way,” Castiel said lowly, sliding the fingers in and out slowly. “I want you to come on my cock alone. Can you do that for me, sweet boy?”

Dean moaned and nodded, grinding down on his fingers. “Yes, daddy.”

Castiel hummed and retracted his fingers, pausing to pull Dean back into a kiss before sliding his hands under his thighs and lifting him up. Dean planted his feet on the edge of the bed as Castiel lined himself up, both of them groaning softly as he sunk down.

They just stayed like that for a few seconds, catching their breaths, Dean allowing himself time to adjust as Castiel sprinkled his shoulders with soft kisses. Castiel leaned back on one elbow when Dean started to move, on hand on his hip helping to guide him up and down at a slow pace.

“Fuck, I could watch you like this forever,” Castiel breathed, squeezing his hip. “Fucking beautiful, Dean.”

Dean shivered violently, his heart skipping at the way Cas growled his name. He rarely used it during a scene and when he did, it never failed to make Dean’s toes curl and his skin prickle. Dean let his head fall back, eyes fluttering as he moved slowly, deliberately. He felt every inch of Castiel, sliding along his clenching walls, that thick head probing deep and brushing his prostate. 

“Feel...so good...daddy,” Dean panted, punctuating each word. “Never get tired of this...always feel so fuckin’  _ good _ .”

Castiel chuckled, the hand that gripped Dean’s hip tightening just a little. “Faster now, boy. Ride me like you mean it.”

Dean wet his lips and nodded, bracing his muscles as he began to move faster. It was no easy task in that position, but it also wasn’t his first time. He’d officially moved in with Castiel nearly 7 months ago and in those months Dean had gained a lot of experience with their ‘play’. His flexibility had greatly improved and his knowledge on just how many ways there were to be fucked was almost tripled. 

“Mm, that’s it, sweet boy,” Castiel praised and the words went straight to Dean’s dick, a moan escaping as he quickened his pace even more. He wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s middle and slowly laid them back, flattening a hand on Dean’s abdomen as the other grabbed his chin and forced his head to the side. 

He planted his feet on the bed and slowly began to thrust upward, pulling a long groan from Dean’s throat before he sealed their lips together.

“Okay, sweetheart, you can come now,” Castiel whispered against his lips, stroking his jaw. He wrapped his arms back around his middle and nuzzled his neck, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder as he picked up his own pace. 

Dean relaxed and his eyes fell closed for a moment but he snapped them back open before Castiel could notice, and he folded his arms over Castiel’s, allowing himself to be rocked with each thrust. His cock bobbed, occasionally slapping against his stomach, the head swollen and red, bordering on the purple Castiel described. He let out a long, broken moan, clutching desperately at Castiel’s arms as he felt himself flirting with the edge of orgasm.

“So close, daddy,” Dean whined, looking back at him. “Please, daddy, harder…”

Castiel reached down and pushed Dean’s thighs apart, draping them widely over his own, creating a new angle that allowed his cock to sink deeper. Dean cried out as the head dragged over his prostate, his whole body shaking. Castiel held him tightly against his body as he fucked up into him, breathing hard into Dean’s neck. His hands held Dean’s legs apart and he used them as leverage to thrust into him, but they occasionally roamed, seemingly wanting to touch every part of Dean’s body at once.

“Do you know how incredible you look?” Cas whispered into his ear, his voice like the burn of whiskey, warm and dark as it worked through Dean’s system. “How  _ beautiful _ you are? You’ve come so far, have opened up so much…” Castiel rolled his hips languidly, eliciting another long moan from Dean, and he smiled into his skin. “The way you submit so easily to me, how much you enjoy it. Fuck, boy, it does things to me...to watch you, feel you, hear you come apart for me. So perfect, Dean…”

Dean, his face red, whined and choked on a moan, his body seizing up as Cas’s thrust his cock in deep.

“That’s it, baby,” Castiel panted, his hands squeezing Dean’s thigh encouragingly. “Come for me. Let me see you…”

Dean closed his eyes and arched as he came, ribbons painting his stomach, his cock flushed a deep red as it twitched and throbbed. All through it Dean heard a quiet mantra from Castiel as the man murmured into his ear.

“Beautiful, sweet boy, just beautiful...fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” Castiel’s hips jerked as he came into Dean’s clenching hole. Dean felt the warmth fill him up and he groaned weakly, his head falling back onto Castiel’s shoulder. 

Castiel laid back with a sigh, pulling Dean with him, uncaring of the mess on his stomach. He nuzzled Dean's neck and sprinkled kisses there and along his shoulder, laying a hand over his chest. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, chuckling softly, a little breathless. 

Dean huffed a laugh and slapped a hand on top of Castiel's, throwing it off his chest. “Am  _ I  _ okay? Says the guy who can barely breathe.”

“I thought you were supposed to be making me feel _ young _ -”

“And I  _ am _ ,” Dean insisted, shifting enough to allow Cas to slip out. He moved to his side, slinging an arm and leg over his body. “You're so young, daddy. The youngest.”

Castiel frowned up at the ceiling, taking Dean's hand and pressing a thumb to his palm. “Not sure that helps.”

Dean snorted, nuzzling his cheek against Castiel's chest. “You've still got it, Cas. You always will.”

Castiel smiled after a beat, turning his head to kiss Dean's forehead. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you, too.” He smiled and looked down at his fingers as they toyed with Castiel's chest hair. “So what are we doing tonight?”

“We'll watch the festivities from the rooftop,” Castiel said, pressing a kiss to the tips of Dean's fingers. “Remember when I told you about it last time we were here? You can see everything from up there. It's beautiful.”

“Hope you plan on keeping me warm,” Dean grumbled half-heartedly, secretly very pleased to have a romantic night on the rooftop of a fancy hotel. “This Kansas boy isn’t used to New York winters.”

“I shall endeavor to keep my arms around you at all times.”

“Right-o, very good,” Dean said in a fake British accent, chuckling when Cas slapped him gently on the thigh.

“You’re making fun of me again,” Cas muttered dryly.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, not sounding sorry at all as he snort-laughed. “It’s just, I love the way you talk. It’s so…”

“Lame?” Castiel supplied.

“No,” Dean said softly. “Just old-fashioned. No one really talks like that anymore, but I kinda wish they did. I like it. It’s romantic and shit.”

“Yes, the shit part is very important.”

Dean grinned and sat up, stretching and sighing with complete contentment. Castiel watched with a lazy smile, his hand rubbing up and down Dean’s thigh. 

“Did you bring the bubble bath?” Dean asked excitedly, glancing at the bathroom.

Castiel rolled his eyes, but his smile never faded. “Yes,  _ child _ , I brought the bubble bath.”

“Good, we can actually put this jacuzzi tub to good use,” Dean climbed out of bed and tugged at Cas’s arm impatiently. “Get up, old man, I want my bath.”

“Now you’re calling me  _ old _ ,” Cas whined, allowing himself to be pulled into the bathroom. “Remind me how you supposedly make me feel young?”

“Mmm.” Dean started running the water when Castiel doubled back for the bubble bath and oil he typically used, returning a moment later with them in his hands. He poured some bubble bath into the running water and sat it to the side, popping the cap on the oil and rubbing some between his hands. He sat down on the toilet and pulled Dean between his legs, motioning for him to turn around. 

Dean pulled his lip between his teeth and complied, tapping his fingertips against his thighs as Castiel rubbed the oil into the sensitive skin of his ass.

“Still red?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder. 

Castiel hummed, massaging a globe gently. “Only just starting to fade. It will sting.”

“Must be driving you crazy, hm?” Dean grinned, rocking back against his hands. Castiel often expressed his appreciation of how much Dean enjoyed being spanked, disclosing to Dean how turned on it made him to see his red ass after he was done. More often than not, it spurred on a second round. 

“You have no idea, sweet boy.” Castiel grabbed his hips and leaned forward, kissing his lower back. “Get in.”

Dean stepped into the rub and sat down, moving up a little to accommodate Castiel behind him. He leaned back against his chest and closed his eyes, sighing as Castiel slid his hands slowly up and down his torso. 

“Not sure how clean I'm gettin’ without soap,” he joked. 

Castiel chuckled against his ear. “Sorry. Just wanted to feel you. You've been so busy with school, me with work, then the holidays. I've missed you.”

Dean smiled and cracked open an eye. “I live with you, remember?” he chuckled, turning his head to kiss Cas on the cheek. “You feel me every night.”

“Yes, but we rarely have the opportunity to take our time like this,” Cas murmured, finally grabbing the body wash and lathering up his hands. “That school of yours keeps you busy...most of your nights are taken up by homework.”

“You’re the one who sets my study schedule,” Dean teased, then hummed as Castiel’s soapy hands began rubbing into his skin. 

“And you will continue to stick to that schedule until you graduate,” Castiel said firmly, then reluctantly: “But...yes, it does leave very little time for things like this.”

“Better than when I lived with Charlie,” Dean shrugged with a small frown. “Only seeing you on the weekends...sucked ass.”

Castiel chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I was very pleased when you called to tell me she was moving out to live with Dorothy.”

Dean snorted wryly. “Yeah, no shit. You showed up at the apartment the  _ next day _ with a moving truck.”

“I simply did not see the point in wasting time.”

“You wanted your boy toy back.”

“You are by no means a toy,” Castiel huffed. “Though, yes, I was eager to get you back home with me where you belong.”

“Possessive.”

“Of you? Absolutely.”

“Mm,” Dean shivered as Cas reached beneath the water to loosely cup his balls. “I like it, though.”

“I know you do,” Castiel said lowly, squeezing Dean before letting him go. “It’s one of the many things that makes you such a good Submissive. You are…” he tugged at Dean’s earlobe with his teeth and sighed, “too delicious for words, sweet boy.”

Dean felt his cheeks heat. “You know, I keep thinking I'm gonna get used to you sayin’ things like that but I don't think I ever will.”

“Good. I'd miss the way the backs of your ears get red when you're flustered.”

“Shaddup.” Dean rubbed bashfully at the back of one of his ears. “I really do miss Charlie, too. Talked to her the other day. They're doin’ good. I think we may do a movie night soon or something.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Castiel murmured, sliding his hands back up over Dean's abdomen. 

“You could come.”

“I wouldn't dare,” Castiel said with a smile. “I mean, should you want to do something with all of us together, absolutely. But I think you and Charlie deserve some time just the two of you, don't you? She's your best friend, after all.”

“Yeah.” Dean glanced back at him. “You don't want to hang out with a couple of kids like us, anyway.” 

“Nonsense. I think both you and your friends are fascinating and highly intelligent. And I happen to be in love with you, so even if I didn't, I would still hang out with them because you asked it of me.” He smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. 

“A true gentleman.”

Castiel shrugged. “I try.”

Dean grinned and shifted, relaxing into Castiel, watching as he added more soap to his hands and started scrubbing one of Dean's arms. “So we'll go watch the ball drop from the rooftop… then what?”

Castiel smirked. “Well, then I imagine we'll be celebrating. It will be a New Year, after all.”

Dean snorted, intentionally stretching under Castiel's hands. “No kinky sex stuff planned for tonight?”

The corner of Castiel's mouth twitched. “Not exactly.”

Dean raised a brow and waited for Cas to elaborate, but the man remained annoyingly silent on the subject. Dean sighed, knowing better than to even try and get an answer out of Castiel, and resigned himself to waiting for whatever Cas had planned.

“You’re learning,” Cas said amusedly.

“No,” Dean said stubbornly. “I’m just too lazy to deal with your vague answers to my questions.”

“I just prefer to surprise you,” Cas shrugged, his soap slicked fingers kneading into Dean’s shoulders.

“I think you just get some sick pleasure from frustrating the hell out of me.”

“Well,” Cas smiled, eyes twinkling. “It  _ is _ fun to watch you squirm.”

“You’re evil,” Dean groaned as Castiel found a particularly hard knot, digging his expert fingers into it and loosening it up.

“Only in the most loving way.”

\----

Castiel had been right; the view was amazing. The city was lit up brilliantly and it seemed like every New York citizen was down below, choking the streets of Times Square. Even on the rooftop of the hotel, the noise from the crowd was impressive. 

The crowd on the roof was modest compared to the street, but still crowded enough that Castiel had a time finding them their own little corner to watch the festivities. The hotel was holding its own little New Year’s party; waiters passing out champagne and weird-looking food on silver trays that Dean was not brave enough to try. He wasn’t big on champagne either, but he sipped at flute and was surprised by how tasty it was. The crowd on the roof was everything Dean wasn’t: rich and schmoozy. Most were surprisingly nice, though, giving both him and Castiel friendly attention without any of the snide comments Dean would usually expect from a group like that.

“Excuse me,” Castiel’s gravely voice came from behind him, his chin practically resting on Dean’s shoulder. “Mind if I sit here?”

Dean looked up at him, giving him a once-over. “Depends. One of those glasses for me?”

“Yes, in fact,” Castiel said, handing him a full flute. “I try to make a habit of buying a drink for the most beautiful person in the room.”

“Is that right?” Dean took the glass, raising a brow. “I dunno. I think you may need to get your eyes checked.”

“Actually,” Castiel said, pressing a hand to his stomach as he sat down, “I’m farsighted, so I could tell from wayyyy over there that you are, by far, the most beautiful person here tonight. And up close,” he pulled his glasses from his jacket pocket, placing them on his nose, “yep. I was right. Actually, even more so than I thought, so maybe you’re onto something about that eye appointment.”

Dean finally laughed. “You’re weird tonight.”

“As opposed to?”

“Good point.” Dean took a sip of the champagne and sat the glass down on the table. “So I talked to dad today.”

Castiel raised his glass to his lips, taking a long, slow sip. “Did you?”

“Mhmm.”

“So what did he- um, I mean, what did you t-two talk about?” Castiel cleared his throat, eyes flitting between Dean and the table.

“Uh,” Dean narrowed his eyes at him, “he was just checking in, I guess. Sam signed up for road and range today so he was talkin’ about tryin’ to find him a car soon, asked me to go with him to help pick something out. He asked how we were doing. If we were happy...which was weird, but he seemed genuinely interested in the answer, so…”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. Anyway, he invited us to dinner next week.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, he-” Dean paused, frowning, “I dunno, it...things have been really good with dad lately. Sammy said he’s barely had a drink in six months and he’s spending more time at home and he even had a date a couple of nights ago. And he’s learning to cook, and he calls me just to talk and...I guess it’s just been...nice. Dad’s always been a good dad, you know, he just didn’t always show it the best way. He seems like he’s really trying now.”

“He’s very proud of you,” Castiel said, clasping his hands together on top of the table. “He tells me often. Well, we don’t talk... _ often _ , but when we do, he tells me how proud he is of you. How much he regrets underappreciating you.”

Dean smiled softly. “I know he does.”

“I’m proud of you too, you know,” Castiel said, reaching across the table to take Dean’s hand, his thumb stroking his knuckles. 

“Oh yeah?” Dean smiled, watching their hands tangle together. 

“Not just because of school,” Cas waved his other hand, “but with how you’ve handled...everything. Your dad, your brother,  _ this _ . You’ve come a long way from the boy I used to know. You’re so much more open now, and you seem much happier-”

“Because of you,” Dean shrugged.

“I may have helped,” Castiel said modestly. “But only because you allowed me to. You went into this so fearlessly, so ready for change...not many people do that, even ones who were unhappy as you were. Change is a scary thing, especially for one so young...and for our unique situation. You could have stood to lose a lot, but you risked it because I think deep down you knew you deserved something better. That’s something to be proud of, Dean.”

Dean furrowed his brows and chewed his lip, then shrugged again. “I guess I just didn’t think of it that way. I’d wanted you since I met you, was kind of obsessed with you, and when you, uh, presented an opportunity I took it without even thinking.”

“And I’m eternally grateful.”

“Alright,” Dean swiped his hands over his face, willing a blush away. “Enough. Isn’t this supposed to be a celebration? Stop gettin’ me all-” he flapped a hand.

“Right, okay,” Castiel chuckled, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of his champagne. “I’ll just do that later, I suppose, then?”

Dean threw him a look and Castiel laughed again, looking back out over the mass of people on the street below. 

“This is incredible. Even more incredible than you said, and you painted quite the picture.”

Castiel looked over at him, pressing his lips together, wetting them, clearing his throat. “Do you...do you like it?”

Dean snorted. “‘Course I do. It’s amazing. But anything is amazing with you, really, so-”

Castiel slid his chair back, the metal scraping against the concrete roof, and gestured Dean over. “C’mere.”

Dean stood and grabbed his champagne flute before walking over, allowing Castiel to turn him and pull him down into his lap, wrapping his arms around his chest and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Only ten minutes to go,” Castiel said quietly, more to himself than Dean. “Do you have a New Year’s resolution?”

“Get better at deep-throating.”

Cas huffed a laugh and shook his head, pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “Not that that’s necessary, but… aside from that.”

Dean thought for a long moment as he watched the crowd below, the cold wind ruffling his hair and coat. “To keep...being better for you, every day,” he said quietly, looking back at Castiel. 

Castiel frowned and nuzzled Dean’s neck, sighing softly. “You need no improvement, Dean.”

“No, I just mean…” Dean sighed. “I wouldn’t be where I am now if it wasn’t for you. Not only with college and finally being out of my dad’s house, but with my own...you know,  _ self _ . I want to be the best Sub I can be for you, the best partner for you...I wanna make you as happy as you make me.”

“Sweet boy…” Castiel murmured, squeezing Dean gently as he kissed under his jaw. “You already make me deliriously happy.”

“Then I want to continue to do so.”

Castiel was quiet for a moment. “As long as you stay right here with me, then I don’t think that will ever be a problem.”

“Of course, Cas,” Dean said easily, smiling down at him. “I don’t plan on goin’ anywhere.”

Castiel looked up at him, his expression difficult to read, his eyes holding an emotion Dean couldn’t quite place. 

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked hesitantly, as if he were afraid to hear the answer. “You’ll stay with me even when I’m older and...eventually have to slow down? When I may not be able to keep up with you anymore?”

“However I can get you, I want you. Always.” 

Castiel swallowed hard and nodded, smiling. The countdown for the last minute started slowly throughout the crowd and Dean saw the ball on top of the Times’ building start its descent, the energy around him palpable. 

Castiel patted Dean’s thigh and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. 

“Stand, boy.”

Castiel stood with him and Dean braced his hands on the metal bar atop the glass wall that caged them, immediately feeling safety and warmth when Castiel pressed up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

_ “Thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one…” _

The temperature had Dean frozen down to his core, but Castiel’s touch and the steady chant of the crowd drew so much excitement that he hardly noticed. He squeezed the railing hard, whites of his knuckles showing, joining in on the countdown when it hit ten. 

“ _ Nine, eight, seven, six…” _

Castiel slid a hand up his chest, tracing his jaw.

_ “Three, two, one!” _

There was a deafening cheer throughout the crowd as the ball reached the bottom and lit up, fireworks exploding and confetti falling all around them. Castiel turned Dean's head to the side and kissed him, chuckling softly against his lips when Dean turned and threw his arms around Castiel's neck, immediately deepening the kiss. Castiel commanded it, slid his tongue languidly against his, cupped his jaw with one hand, the other playing over his side until it eventually fell away. It was unhurried, as Castiel intended. They had all the time in the world. 

The first thing Dean registered when he pulled away was Castiel’s too-blue eyes, trained on his own, his lips slightly parted. When he looked down Dean followed his gaze, landing on a small wooden box that Castiel held between his thumb and forefinger. Nestled in black velvet was a simple gold band- almost exactly like the one Dean kept of his mother’s.

Dean looked back up at Castiel with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing, unable to produce any sound. The roar of the crowd around them made it feel that much more surreal, like they were in a movie, stuck inside a moment that carried on without them while their own time stood still. 

Castiel licked his lips and took a step back, slowly lowering himself down, until he rested on one knee and looked up at him with hopeful eyes. 

“Please,” he said. “Marry me.”

The noise from the party seemed to muffle, like his ears were stuffed with cotton, and Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His throat dried up and tears threatened to spill, because never even in his dreams did he ever think he’d see Castiel kneeling before him with an engagement ring.

“Cas-” Dean choked, cleared his throat, then nodded jerkily. “Yes, holy fuck,  _ yes _ -”

He didn’t get to finish his rambling. Castiel stood and practically swept him very literally off his feet, holding him tightly as their lips crashed together. Dean was breathless, holding on for dear life as Cas completely dominated it, his grip strong and his lips almost bruising. 

When they parted, Dean was lightheaded, but he held out a shaking hand as Cas slipped the ring onto his finger. Dean almost sobbed when Castiel kissed his hand and then they were wrapped in each other once again until their lungs demanded air.

“This is real, right?” Dean murmured, clinging to Castiel, hiding his flushed face.

“Very real,” Castiel nodded, kissing the top of his head. He pulled back enough to look down at Dean, smiling widely enough to make the corner of his eyes crinkle. “I was...incredibly nervous. Never proposed before.”

“Why were you nervous? It’s not like you honestly thought I’d say no.”

“I was unsure,” Castiel nodded, smiling quickly and looking down between them at their hands, rubbing a thumb over the ring. “Unsure if you’d say yes. Unsure if it’d be fair of me to want you to.”

Dean looked at him a moment and rolled his eyes. “So  _ that’s  _ where all this ‘old’ stuff was coming from? Jesus, Cas, haven’t I made it clear that it doesn’t matter to me? I want  _ you _ . I don’t care about anything other than that.” He threaded their fingers together and reached up with his other hand, laying it on the nape of Castiel’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “What you  _ should  _ be nervous about is tellin’ my dad.”

He pulled away with a smirk, but Castiel’s sheepish expression wasn’t as satisfying as the one he expected to see.

“He already knows,” Castiel said quietly, searching Dean’s eyes. “I...may have asked for his blessing.”

Dean blinked. “You did what now?”

“It’s traditional, for one,” Castiel said. “Secondly, considering the situation and his attempts to come to terms with it, I considered it a courtesy he was owed. And finally, I knew it would matter to you. You don’t need your father’s approval anymore. You don’t stand in that shadow anymore. But regardless, I know what his blessing would mean to you. To Sam, to your family. What it means for our future that includes your family.”

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. “And he just...said yes.”

“At first I thought he was going to hit me again.”

“Probably a pretty fair assumption,” Dean said, cocking his head to the side.

Castiel chuckled, his nose scrunching. “He asked me if I loved you. I told him I’d never in my life met anyone like you. That you care for me, you challenge me, you surprise me, you  _ see  _ me. That I’m constantly learning new things about you and it’s how I love you more at the end of every day. It never slows.” Castiel paused, smiling again. “Then, uh...I thought he was gonna hit me again, but only for a second that time. And he told me he just wanted you to be happy.”

“And that was it?”

“There was...a lot more. We talked for almost three hours. About everything. Well,” Castiel clicked his tongue, “ _ almost  _ everything.”

“And, uh…” Dean swallowed, trying not to tear up again, “Sammy?”

Castiel quirked a smile, reaching up to trace his jawline. “I knew you’d want to be the one to tell him.”

Dean nodded, grateful for that. He’d always regretted the way Sam had found out his big brother was bisexual, and even more how he found out about him and Cas. This at least he could do right. 

He cleared his throat and glanced around, playing with the ring on his finger. “S-so, what now?” Dean asked, looking back at Cas. “What do you do after you get engaged?”

“Well, according to my research-”

Dean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, because knowing Castiel he probably  _ did _ actually do some research.

“-generally you get drunk, have amazing sex, and then post about it on Facebook.”

Dean made a face. “The, uh, engagement or the sex?”

Castiel quirked a smile. “The engagement, of course. Though if you wanted to start our own personal blog about our BDSM lifestyle, we could look into it.”

“One thing at a time,” Dean chuckled. He eyed the flute of champagne that was only half empty and clicked his tongue. “Well, I’m not drunk yet.”

“We can fix that.”

By the time Castiel was ushering Dean back into their room, the boy was a grinning and stumbling mess, his pleasant buzz getting the better of him. Castiel watched with fond amusement as Dean tripped over himself trying to take off his jeans, landing on the bed and giggling up at the ceiling. 

“I fell.”

“You did,” Castiel murmured, slowly taking off his tie and sitting on the edge of the bed. He laid it on the bed and Dean snatched it up, running the silk through his fingers until he got distracted by the ring.

“Holy shit, I’m  _ engaged _ ,” Dean said with awe.

Castiel chuckled as he removed his shoes. “Did you forget?”

Dean scoffed and clumsily climbed into Castiel’s lap, forcing the man to sit back with still one shoe on. Castiel smiled and placed his hands on Dean’s hips, tilting his head.

“Can I help you?”

“We’re gonna get married,” Dean whispered loudly, bumping their foreheads together. “‘M gonna be, like, your husband.”

“Yes, that’s generally how engagements work,” Castiel said dryly. 

“You’re gonna be  _ my _ husband,” Dean murmured, tugging gently at Castiel’s collar. 

Castiel licked his lips and smiled, hands flexing over Dean’s sides. “I am.”

“This whole thing is like a giant perfect wet dream,” Dean blurted, uncaring even after he realized it. 

Castiel snorted. “Your perfect wet dream is marriage?”

“Cas, you...you have no idea,” Dean drawled, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, taking a break every so often to start pushing his jacket off his shoulders. “When you...when I first met you, I...fuck, I wanted you then. I wanted you to touch me and I wanted to hear you say my name, love the way it sounds when you say it…” 

He finally gave up on the buttons, pushing the jacket the rest of the way off and quite literally ripping the shirt open. Buttons scattered around them and Dean set his mouth in an “o”, but Castiel didn’t seem to care, instead pushing Dean’s shirt up and over his head.

“All I wanted for years was you. But I never let myself think all this was possible. So I wanted you however I could get you. But this...it’s better than I ever could’ve dreamed.”

Castiel slid his hands up Dean’s torso, circling a thumb over a nipple, chuckling when Dean shied away slightly. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, laying his hands on Dean’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips, tongue teasing the seam. “I’ve honestly never meant that more than I do right this second. But I already know it’ll be more tomorrow.”

“Jesus, Cas, you gotta-” Dean huffed and looked down, his hands twitching over Castiel’s arms and shoulders. “You gotta quit talkin’ like that. Too drunk for that.”

“But it’s true,” Castiel murmured, tilting Dean’s chin up to look him in the eye. “I thought I knew what love was. Thought I had felt it with Yulia, but you’ve given me a whole new meaning. What I felt for her pales in comparison to you. Now that I have you, I can’t imagine going through life without you.”

“Cas, what did I  _ just _ say.”

Castiel chuckled and nudged at Dean’s shoulder. “Lie down, sweetheart.”

Dean obliged, stretching out on the bed and sighing as Castiel began to undress him. He started with the shoes and worked his way up until Dean was bare, pressing light kisses to the insides of his thighs.

“I can’t get over how much I want you all the time,” Castiel said lowly, looking up at Dean through his eyelashes. “You spark such arousal in me, Dean. I want to do...everything to you.”

“You know ‘m not gonna stop you,” Dean mumbled, spreading his legs a little as Castiel dipped lower to nuzzle his half-hard cock. 

“I know,” Castiel said, his voice sending shivers up Dean’s spine. “That’s what makes you so  _ good _ .” Castiel trailed kisses down the insides of Dean’s thighs, hooking his hands underneath and pushing both of his legs up. “Are you sure you’re not too intoxicated to participate in this tonight?”

“Shut up and  _ fuck me _ ,” Dean growled, inhaling sharply and clutching wildly at the sheets when Castiel circling his rim with his tongue. He wasn’t even sore despite their activities earlier that day, and he couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol in his system or not. 

Castiel flicked his tongue over Dean’s hole, occasionally pressing it just past his rim, kneading and pulling his ass with both hands. Dean was a whimpering, writhing mess in minutes, and it was only when he was ready to erupt that Castiel finally stopped, sitting back on his calves as he pressed a wet finger inside.

“Touch your pretty cock, baby,” Castiel commanded, crooking his finger upward and pressing it deep to massage his prostate.

Dean almost did so with his right hand, but thought better of it, straining to look down at Castiel as he wrapped his left hand around his cock and stroked slowly. The ring caught Castiel’s attention and he slowed his movements, staring at it for a long time before looking back up at Dean.

“Perfect, that’s perfect,” he mumbled, slowly retracting his finger. He popped the cap on the lube and squirted some in his hand, rubbing it over his own cock with a wet sound. “Toss me that pillow, sweetheart.”

Castiel took the pillow and gently slid it under Dean’s lower back, effectively propping him up into a more comfortable position. Castiel situated himself between Dean’s legs, holding them up as he rubbed the head of his cock over his hole.

He met Dean’s eyes as he slowly pushed inside, holding himself up with hands on either side of his body. Dean sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his head back into the soft pillow. Castiel took the opportunity to lavish attention on the exposed neck as he pushed inside, sinking deeper with deliberately slow movements. It worked to make Dean feel every inch of him, stretching him wide and slipping in deep until Cas was snug. 

“Look at me, boy.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered open with some effort and he sucked in a breath as Castiel angled his hips and pushed, driving the head of his cock right into Dean’s prostate. He held it there and calmly watched Dean squirm underneath him, arching and groaning softly. Cas rolled his hips then, stimulating the spot, smirking when Dean desperately pressed back. 

Castiel slid his arms underneath Dean, holding him against his chest with one arm while the other grasped the back of Dean’s head possessively. Dean shuddered at the weight pressing down on him, the feeling of being completely surrounded by Cas, trapped by his strong arms and commanding gaze. The position had his cock pressed between their bellies, smearing pre-cum as it throbbed with the stimulation. 

Castiel was far more worried about touching him,  _ feeling  _ him, savoring the closeness between him, than he actually was  _ moving.  _ He pumped his hips slowly, the hand on the back of Dean’s neck squeezing, his forehead pressed against the side of Dean’s head, breath hot on his skin. 

“I love you,” Castiel whispered against his skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck. “I love you, Dean, I love you…”

He finally pulled back, propping himself up on his fists and snapping his hips roughly. Dean cried out and arched against the bed, hands blindly reaching out for Castiel. Castiel grabbed a hand in the air and forced it up over his head, pressing it into the pillow as he gripped Dean’s chin, tapping his cheek with a finger.

“Eyes on me, sweet boy,” he said softly, voice low. “That’s it. Wanna see you when you come, baby.”

It wasn’t as if he was waiting for permission this time, but even so Dean was coming moments later, Castiel’s voice working him over just as well as his movements. Cum pooled on his stomach as Castiel fucked into him, his dry throat making his pleasured cries raspy and desperate. Castiel molded their bodies together again and grunted as he came, burying his face in Dean’s neck and mouthing at sensitive skin.

Dean clung to him as they both slowly came down from the high, bodies cooling and breath coming short. Castiel eventually lifted himself up with some effort and slipped out, causing Dean to grimace weakly. Castiel grabbed a damp washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned Dean of his release, then the mess he’d left between the boy’s legs. 

Castiel stretched out beside Dean and smiled when Dean immediately latched onto him. Arms wrapped around and Dean sighed, pressing his face into the crook of Cas’s neck. 

“This is...a new thing for me, you know,” Cas mumbled sometime later, the room dark and cozy. 

“Hm?” Dean lifted his head, blinking curiously. “What is?”

“This, uh...lovemaking,” Castiel said softly, and Dean almost smiled when he noticed the blush on the man’s cheeks. “Sex without all the…”

“Equipment?” 

Cas snorted a laugh and nodded. “Yes. It had never interested me before. So...vanilla. But with you, every once in a while…often I enjoy it more than a scene.” 

“You sound surprised.” 

“I am,” Cas shrugged. “ _ Making love _ was never part of the deal for me. Was never something I wanted. It never excited me.” 

“Well,” Dean said, stretching languidly, “I hate to break it to you, but you've been  _ making love _ to me for awhile now.”

“Unintentionally, I assure you.” Castiel grinned slyly and chuckled when Dean smacked his chest playfully. “You've taught me many new things about myself.”

“Right back at ya, big guy,” Dean quipped, a hand sliding down to cup Castiel's flaccid cock.

“Ah, to be young with a refractory period as nonexistent as yours,” Castiel said, humming as he tilted Dean's chin up to kiss him. 

Dean shrugged. “‘s okay. I can wait fifteen minutes. I can be  _ very _ patient, but you already knew that.”

“You  _ are  _ improving,” Castiel agreed, fingertips trailing down Dean's neck, over his shoulder and down his arm, finally resting the hand on his hip. “Unfortunately, I've never given myself enough opportunity to properly test your patience. I'm afraid my patience needs its own overhaul… especially where you're concerned.”

Dean smirked and raised a brow. “What kind of opportunity?”

“Mmm.” Castiel furrowed his brow and kissed Dean's forehead. “Teasing has always been one of my favorite things. Building anticipation with my Subs, making them wait. One of my favorite scenes was to dress my Subs in an outfit of my choosing and have them act as my pet for the day. They follow me around, sit with me, watch television with me, eat with me. But they're not permitted to speak, and I'm allowed to touch them, but they cannot touch me. After the day, if they've pleased me, they're rewarded.” He looked down at his hand, sliding it back up across Dean's chest. “But I've never had the patience to try it with you. I'll fail my own challenge.”

Dean shuddered despite himself and quickly wet his lips, hoping Castiel didn’t hear the way his voice betrayed just how much the thought of playing Cas’s pet turned him on. 

“Oh, that’s uh…” he coughed and swallowed, “...could be, um, interesting. I wouldn’t mind playing...pet for the day.”

Castiel eyed him, a smile slowly forming, and he nodded once. “Hm, well. As I said, my own personal discipline around you has slackened. I’ll need to get back into shape, so to speak, before we try such a scene. And work on your, shall we say, stamina. A scene like that can be quite gruelling if you’re not prepared for it, and borders on a temporary 24/7 agreement. It would literally start from the moment you wake and would not end until I say it does.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully, tracing his fingers over Cas’s chest. “Right, yeah. Makes sense.”

Castiel chuckled, pressing his lips to the side of Dean’s neck. “Not to worry, sweet boy. I have many plans for us. We’re not in any rush, though. I prefer to take my time with you...mold you into the kind of Sub I only ever dreamed of having.”

Dean blushed and snorted a laugh. “Like your dream Sub or something?”

“Well,” Castiel shrugged, “you’ve already brought me more happiness and satisfaction than any of my past Subs, but...I suppose, yes, a ‘dream’ Sub would be a good phrase. I think there are still many things we haven’t explored with you yet that you would  _ shine _ in. Things I’ve thought about, but have never ventured with you yet.”

“... like?”

“I'd prefer to just show you, teach you, in time.”

Dean scowled and shoved at him. “No fair. Get me all excited like that then don't follow through-”

“You're not making a very good case for the pet scene.”

Dean grinned and reached up, carding his left hand through Castiel's hair, pausing to look at the ring. Castiel watched him silently, absently ghosting fingers over his back. 

“Still can't believe it,” Dean murmured, thumbing the ring. “Have you told your family yet?”

“They all know,” Castiel nodded, smiling. “They were thrilled. Anael insists on planning the wedding.”

“She can have at it,” Dean said, lifting his head to peck Castiel on the lips. “As long as it happens, I don't care how we get there.”

Castiel turned onto his side, pillowing his head with one arm and laying the other hand on Dean's neck, stroking his jaw with a thumb. “I love you, Dean. You're so much more than I ever imagined, ever expected… far more than I ever felt myself deserving of. You're everything I need, and everything I never knew I needed. I'm going to do everything I can to remind you why you fell in love with me. I want strive to be as good as the man you see when you look at me.”

Dean looked away, trying to will the blush away from his cheeks. “There you go again.”

“It's the truth.”

Dean chewed his bottom lip and laid a hand across Cas’s chest. “I’m not so good with the words,” he spoke quietly, “but you know it’s the same for me, right? About the more than I ever imagined, everything I need stuff…” he cleared his throat and shrugged. “‘Cause it is. You’re everything to me.” 

Castiel smiled and rolled onto his back, pulling Dean on top of him and into a long kiss. 

“I know, sweet boy,” he murmured. “I’ll never know how or exactly why you chose me, but I’m so glad you did. I fully intend on being selfish and keeping you.” 

“Good,” Dean nodded, tangling their legs together and grinning when their cocks brushed against each other. “Has it been 15 minutes yet?”

Castiel chuckled and carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “For you, I don’t really need the full 15 minutes.” 

Dean’s grin widened. “Windows?”

“Windows.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for joining us on this journey! It was such a joy and we truly hope this crew will move with us to our other works. We love interacting with you!
> 
> Keep an eye out for the time stamp soon! I would also suggest subscribing to the series at that point, because there will definitely be more in the future of these two.
> 
> Thank you all. You've been so very good for us.


End file.
